First of all, my mental health recovery has been swinging like a pendulum and this is getting tiring.
I’m tired of swinging and being treated like a nuclear bomb that’s about to go off. I know my triggers and I know the things that tend to set me off, and right now – it’s safe to say that anyone else who would’ve dated me would have easily been chased off by the kind of questions that they get from my family. Being the middle man and having to answer questions about my mood, my health and handling things, alongside the barrage of questions about my relationship – it’s driving me crazy.
I know I’ve cut myself off from any potential stress factors but also, this is so high school. Passing messages via people when all I really want is some space to breathe and the absence of anxiety. Do I want to worry that someone will come in and suddenly yell at me? No. Do I want to worry that someone will ask me a billion questions or tiptoe around me? No. I’m not into that.
Being BPD, the hollow feeling of emptiness and isolation is something I feel on an everyday basis. A new lipstick can send me into ecstatic joy and the slightest disapproval can send me spiralling downwards. I’m trying to fight that. I’ve narrowly avoided fighting with Lucas on several occasions, and I want to make sure I’m better equipped to handle all of this better. Not to dampen my emotional sensitivity, since numbing myself to emotions doesn’t make it better – it just means I run away for a while – but to be able to ride it out and do better. Slowly.
It’s not all been doom and gloom, let’s be real. Recovery swings back between negative numbers and low numbers, but I know I’m getting better. Just not as fast as I’d like – but everyone says I’m too hard on myself. I’m taking on freelance projects, trying my hand at this influencer life among other things,
The above photos are from a coffee sesh with Flowers, someone I haven’t seen in a while. He’s all good vibes and it was nice seeing him. I even saw Fiona recently, and I’ve missed her.
I’ve learned to go out with my glasses on (and got new glasses made, courtesy of Lucas and OWL in 1U) and it’s been a lot of rebuilding and trying to get stronger. The photo to the right is a repost/reedit of an old one, and I will be that girl again. I will be stronger again. I don’t care what they do, or say. Or rather, I do – I just want it to affect me left, It felt like the floor crashed out from under me, but I want to get back up.
I even made it into a Zalora video, (thanks PMC) so you’ll see me there in a few weeks. They can’t keep me down, I’ve still got a little more fight left in me. And if they want to fight, I’ll bring ’em down with me.