I’m fine.

I’m fine. That’s what I’ve been telling people. It’s easier that way. When actually I’ve been feeling lost and alone for weeks now. I’ve got friends and family who are there for me, I shouldn’t feel alone. But I do. I’m in a constant state of exhaustion, probably because my mind is always full with everything. All sorts of things, some dark some not so dark but too much to deal with at any one time. I can’t concentrate on anything for long, all I seem to want to do is listen to music. I feel directionless. Life just seems to be a unending need for the weekend, when for a few hours I can forget. Today I’m quite calm. Yesterday I was a state. Frenzied even. I did manage to cry, which is something I have been unable to do recently. Although I think that’s a good thing, it also shows the extent of my pain. Yesterday was painful. For those of us with bpd, emotional pain is physical pain. Only painkillers don’t work in this case. You just want to switch it off, stop it all. Sleep provides necessary respite if it’s possible, which for me is sadly lacking. So instead you spend your calmer days like a zombie, hardly eating, lying on the sofa trying to let your emotions wash over you.
It just ain’t living.

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