If today was my last day I would be running toward the end with arms wide open and tears of joy.
Not that I have lived my life to the fullest, I hardly lived at all really...
I was stuck in a fantasy world for so many years, I thought it was normal to wake up everyday and hate everything and that I was born to live an unhappy and unfulfilled life. Then my BPD diagnoses came, and everything crashed and burned. I honestly never gave much thought to all the times I had impulsive behaviours or the countless arguments and tears shed or the self-harming and suicide "practices"... turns out that wasn't normal at all. I lived in a world that wasn't even real, and while I consider myself in the real world now, I don't even enjoy it any better. Knowing and seeing the harm I cause is worse than being stuck in the "victim" bubble and blaming everyone else.
Either way, life is worthless.