Life

I wish therapists understood the degree in which BPD's (or me, at least) think about suicide. It's not something I wish to do for attention nor is it something I want to follow through with.

In fact, I am terrified at the thought of it.

But sometimes the thoughts are so overwhelming. I sit on the bathroom floor, pills in hand, tempting myself. I know if I don't down them all at once, I won't follow through. I know if I start with one at the time I'll get scared after five or six. I don't wish to have these thoughts and I have done all I can to wish them away. I have come to the conclusion that God hates me. These thoughts have resulted in every therapist I have ever had walking away from me. People just walk out of my life unaffected as if I never met them. They are... Frustrated. Angry. Confused. Hurt. And it makes me feel even more unloved because their love for me feels conditional and superficial.

Throughout my life, people have walked away from me, thrown me away like yesterday's trash. My own father, my sister, my husband, so many friends I can't count them all. Even when I was little, I was never important enough for someone to take me from my mother or get me some psychological help. Nobody ever asked me how I felt when my mother constantly threw her emotional needs in my direction. I couldn't handle it. I was a child. And yet, even as a child, I knew I was not loved or wanted. I knew that nobody cared how I felt or cared enough to step in and intervene so that I could live a normal life.

And here is the product. I am the person who was not abused enough for someone to intervene. No one was beating me or sexually abusing me, so I was left to cope with emotional abuse instead. And everyone in my path turned their head another direction. When I acted out, I was blamed. I turned into a little liar as a little girl. I lied about stupid things for no apparent reason. I once told a vice principle made an inappropriate comment and it was all a lie. I was shunned by other kids and always the one left out of the birthday invitation. I spent my high school years in my lonely head with few friends because my mother ran them off and didn't allow me to do school activities. I failed in grades in middle and high school. I became the one no one wanted to be around.

And yet, at almost 30, nothing has changed.