woofwag
Bad dog
- Sep 17, 2025
- 314
I like looking back at all of my threads to see my headspace at the moment because I rarely remember what I was feeling at any point in time. The constant back-and-forth through all of my comments and posts is honestly kind of laughable. I'll have these waves of doomposting, then followed up by something like "fuck SI is back," or "I love them so much." Then more doomposting. Then floods of comments trying to hype people up saying it will be ok, and at the same time posting more about how I desperately want to die. Mourning myself and wishing there were a universe I could've been ok in, then back to wishing I had never existed at all and thinking about how miserable and pathetic and useless I am.
Admittedly though, it tends to lean heavier on the depression side. Which is how it's always been. I get these brief glimpses of a tiny shred of hope, but it is so rare and fleeting that is often is more painful than my depressive side. Although there are plenty of times where I have found living to be totally unbearable, only still here due to not having everything set up for my next attempt. Which this one, I'm nearly positive, will be successful.
It's such a sad thing to witness from outside. Always finding myself torn apart like this. Never able to experience the peace or love I crave. Constantly feeling abandoned, and honestly, I am abandoned a lot. Because I'm like this. Because I drive people away. It has happened so many times, and I don't think I'll ever be capable of stopping. I want to spare anyone who may ever come in contact with me from this hell. Because even in the best of times, even when I'm truly happy with someone, I fuck it up. That's just how bpd works. The more love I have for someone, the more anxious and sure that they hate me I get, the more I overwhelm them because I put them on a pedestal and practically throw myself to the floor for them, only to then turn around and get disappointed if they do something slightly wrong. It's not my fault I'm like this. I didn't ask to grow up the way I did. I didn't ask to endure what I've had to. I didn't ask to be born at all. But it is miserable. I can't "fall in love" because my love becomes as much of an unstoppable force as my suicidality, and I'm so sure of it and so dedicated to it that no one can stop me, yet there are so many of these moments where I doubt it too and tears me apart.
Genuinely, if I could classify my relationship with my life in any way, it would be an abusive one. I spend so much time trying to make things better and to help myself and others, just to get punished and beaten down for no reason. Constantly on the border of euphoria and depression. Constantly romanticizing both life and death. But mostly death. I feel like I should probably just cut it off. My misery pervades everything I do, including love. End of the day, my destruction is the only thing consistent across all boards. I'm such a miserable little pup :(
Admittedly though, it tends to lean heavier on the depression side. Which is how it's always been. I get these brief glimpses of a tiny shred of hope, but it is so rare and fleeting that is often is more painful than my depressive side. Although there are plenty of times where I have found living to be totally unbearable, only still here due to not having everything set up for my next attempt. Which this one, I'm nearly positive, will be successful.
It's such a sad thing to witness from outside. Always finding myself torn apart like this. Never able to experience the peace or love I crave. Constantly feeling abandoned, and honestly, I am abandoned a lot. Because I'm like this. Because I drive people away. It has happened so many times, and I don't think I'll ever be capable of stopping. I want to spare anyone who may ever come in contact with me from this hell. Because even in the best of times, even when I'm truly happy with someone, I fuck it up. That's just how bpd works. The more love I have for someone, the more anxious and sure that they hate me I get, the more I overwhelm them because I put them on a pedestal and practically throw myself to the floor for them, only to then turn around and get disappointed if they do something slightly wrong. It's not my fault I'm like this. I didn't ask to grow up the way I did. I didn't ask to endure what I've had to. I didn't ask to be born at all. But it is miserable. I can't "fall in love" because my love becomes as much of an unstoppable force as my suicidality, and I'm so sure of it and so dedicated to it that no one can stop me, yet there are so many of these moments where I doubt it too and tears me apart.
Genuinely, if I could classify my relationship with my life in any way, it would be an abusive one. I spend so much time trying to make things better and to help myself and others, just to get punished and beaten down for no reason. Constantly on the border of euphoria and depression. Constantly romanticizing both life and death. But mostly death. I feel like I should probably just cut it off. My misery pervades everything I do, including love. End of the day, my destruction is the only thing consistent across all boards. I'm such a miserable little pup :(
