There once was a little girl…

And she was ever so brave, now that little girls all grown up. Bravery doesn’t come so easy. Living with bpd on a good day can be just as daunting as it can be on a bad day. These last few days iv had my rollercoaster week up and downs like you could never imagine hormoanes flying all over the shop creating an un inhabitable place to live  in my head. 

I have little help with my issues getting a therapy session where I live is next to impossible  you might aswell be dead before they recognise your problems. A lot of the time I spend chasing these appointments handing in risk assessments and making phone calls to be told they can’t find me on the system and that I must start all over again. It’s tedious and personally I gave up trying. 

Living in a mind that splits different parts of your inner self into separate personalitys, ones that can skip between themselves with the smallest of triggers is daunting and nerve racking. I want to scream out for help most days but my anxiety also won’t let me show how my bpd effects me in the day to day life I live. 

I started looking through my memory boxes the other night. Ever since I was a little girl I have had an obsessive need to be wanted. I have excessively hoarded train tickets and valentines presents, photos, stones from beaches storys I use to write about in school about boys in my life anything I could get my hands on to keep to remember. 

Looking back this is a serious emotional defect in such a young girl. I started self harming quiet young with little reason to feel that low in myself. I had issues that I couldn’t  explain, I got blamed for just being a naughty problem child so I left home and dealt with my emotional problems myself with little support. I thought I was a strong independent girl, reality check I was a lost little soul that could of done with a guardian angel to protect me. 

But nothing can protect you from the inner emotions you suppress as a bpd suffer you don’t realise the emotional backlash you create for yourself. From just one thought, one thing you feel bad about can make a hole avenue of serious emotions that are a struggle to categorise. I still haven’t mastered the art of not giving a fuck. I still feel everyone wants to leav me my emotional problems lay within abandonment I have issues but I’m working on it right now every second I’m battling with that constant inner emotion and I will win this time because I am learning to live with my bpd and although I may not seem like I  have control in my past posts. I do and no matter how far up or how low down I get I’m more in control now than ever… 

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