I can barely think. It's as if my brain had stopped running. I don't know how or what or why, I don't know how I feel. My emotions and thoughts feel mechanical if I try to observe myself with attention, but if I don't try I can barely notice a thing. Nothing really goes on in my head anymore. But this is normal.
I just want to be back to being miserable, I miss having an episode, I wish I could cry and go into panic attacks, I don't know who I am without those emotions. That was once the only acceptable state I could see myself in, I don't know why I feel this way, I don't know why.
I remember this one morning, I woke up to my mother yelling and it somehow triggered all the negative shit that I had to endure and I just couldn't take it, I faintly have a concept of that morning, but at the same time, I don't remember, I can't remember. The images and memories slipped out of my fingertips like foam of shampoo under the shower, like grains of sand on your feet after a wave of tide hit the beach.
Do you know the feeling of waking up from a dream knowing you've had a dream? It was like that. but now it's different, I've been like this countless times and I still doubt if the thoughts and emotions and physical feelings were just made up in my head, but I've been like this so many times, I should have learned but I didn't. It's almost as if I'm normal, in the standard of a robot. Laughter, memories, imagination, creativity, colorful minds and memories and the music and tones, death and birth, and thoughts under that blur in the head.
In the end, who am I to decide?
If I don't think about my state of wellbeing, then I'm better off dead.
YOU ARE READING
The things I think of when I'm alone
PoetryUnbearable pain that is expressed and acknowledged becomes bearable. But people who have suffered from BPD received no such responses in their childhood. Therefore, they are stuck in the past, trying to elicit what they needed as a child-validation...
