nimble elbow
Dear whoever reads this,
I don’t know exactly why I’m writing this. Maybe just because I need someone — anyone — to understand. Or maybe because if I don’t let it out, I’m scared I’ll drown in it.
I have suicidal thoughts. Not to scare anyone, and definitely not for attention. It’s just that sometimes, the pain gets too heavy to carry. It doesn’t go away. It lives in me. Some days it’s quiet, and some days it screams. But it’s always there.
Living with borderline personality disorder feels like being at war with myself. One minute I’m clinging to people, desperate for connection, and the next I’m pushing them away with everything I have — terrified they’ll leave, convinced they already want to. I feel too much, and at the same time, I feel completely numb. I don’t know who I am half the time. It’s exhausting.
I’m tired of pretending I’m okay. I’m tired of smiling when I feel like screaming. I’m tired of carrying this weight alone.
But I haven’t given up. Not yet. I’m still here — bruised, worn out, but still breathing. And I’ve decided to ask for help. Not because I’m weak, but because I’m tired of suffering in silence. I want to believe things can get better. I want to give myself that chance, even when part of me says I don’t deserve it.
So I’m writing this. Not as a goodbye, but as a beginning. I just need someone to know. I need to be heard. Because if I’m still here, there’s still a chance — and I want to hold onto that.
Sincerely,
Someone who’s still trying
dapper vigil