I Don’t Know Who I Am Anymore, There’s Too Many Versions Of “me”

all I can do is stare at your name and hope that something will happen

I want to pULL all MY TEETH OUT

The way I was so upset and tired and I started to dissociate and drift off and then I got a text message from you and my mood instantly changed. I couldn’t stop smiling and I was bouncing on my feet. And you have no idea. Text me back u rat I need saving again.

Without my mental illness I wouldn't know who I am but, because of my mental illness I have no sense of self. Like the logic is super crazy.

oh I’ve stopped. I’ve realised how nasty you are. Selfish, rude, self absorbed lowkey kinda ugly, undisciplined loser. Enjoy your life. So glad I’m free from you.

At this point being in love with you has become a part of my personality. So what’ll happen if I stop?

i would literally give anything for them to be as obsessed with me as i am with them please for once in my life i'll do anything i just need this so bad

What can I do with this want.

Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath — 3rd January 1959

do you remember me? do you remember my laugh….the excitement in my voice when we spent our time together, how about my name, do you remember that?

bpd culture is having a violent/euphoric/“happy” episode only to immediately crash and have a really bad breakdown

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