So angry. So frustrated. I want to cry out for help, but I know I have to maintain my facade. Keep this smile on my face, fake as it may be. I'm slipping, and no one can help me.
Yes Mr. Shrink, I am very aware that my situation is rather complex. Yes I am aware that I am a paradox in multiple aspects. Yes, I am aware that each facet of my mind moves it towards a dimension that is rather difficult to address. Where am I? What am I?
I'm running out of options and I'm running out of time. One more blow, and this heart of mine will shatter. It's all kicks and giggles to say you're strong and you're not going to break, but there comes a point when you have to just stand and scream.
There also comes a time when you can scream until your ears bleed, and no one hears you.
What? Ignore if you want? I still need your lullaby, your hand. Is it dark enough? Can you see me? Do you want me? Can you reach me?
Oh yeah, I have BPD and I never reached out in the first place because I was afraid of annoying people and being abandoned. And if I did reach out, it was with a smile painted onto my face and a joke covering up this brittle heart.
Well shit.
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