5/8/2018

I’ve been a lot more open lately about my brain being a fuck and not working right. A big pivot to being “sad online” rather than “mad online.” And the reality is? I’m fucking miserable, dude! Everything sucks! BPD and Gender Dysphoria are a horrible, horrible mix, and it’s exhausting to constantly live with an internal monologue that seemingly only seems to yell “I HATE THIS!” over and over again.

Here’s the thing: I grew up being told one thing. That my life was not important. That I didn’t matter. So, I’ve spent so much of my time trying to help others because I wanted to prove that statement wrong. And what’s so fucked up about that is that I worry about being selfish in doing so. I mean, am I trying to support other people because it’s the right thing to do, or to try and convince myself that I’m not completely worthless? Is making my friends feel good just a bullshit smokescreen to make me feel good? It’s why I’ve had such a hard time opening up, myself, instead opting to get angry and fight with people these last few years.

And the worst part of all this, is this dawning realization that I am completely powerless. I can’t help people. There are so many people I care about who are broke as a joke, with shitty home environments, living with abusers or being in abusive relationships with no easy way to escape. And what can I do, give them a thumbs up and say “hang in there!”?

I was up very late last night, trying to talk someone down from that metaphorical edge. All I could do was offer up cliched platitudes the entire time. I don’t even know if my words actually worked. This wasn’t someone saying “I’m sad, bitch,” this was someone dealing with a serious, life-threatening situation. And I had no idea what to say or what to do. Everything hit me like a fucking truck: what good am I? I can’t help myself, and I can’t help people I care about.

I live alone, and I don’t date, because I’m frequently hit by BPD freak-outs that cause me to scream and cry and get angry for no real reason. I refuse to subject other people to that, so I close myself off to the rest of the world. And it’s not because I’m worried that I’ll hurt someone, but because I can’t even handle living with it, so what kind of asshole would I be if I made someone else live with it? I don’t make a whole lot of money, so I can’t freely give it to others to get them out of bad situations. I live with an internal monologue and several external outlets doing everything in their power to convince me that I’m not a real woman, but that I’m some creepy dude with boundary issues just roleplaying as one online. I deal with constant, unending waves of self-loathing. I can’t help myself. I can’t help you. And even if I could, I’m probably doing it out of some twisted sense of proving a lifetime of abuse wrong. What worth do I have as a person? What do I have to offer? I’m a broken human being trying to repair other broken human beings, and I hate myself too much to fix me first, or to ask someone else to.

I don’t fucking know what to do. All I can do is say “sorry” over and over.

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