They Say I'm Getting Better

I am not sure what "better" is. I was diagnosed with BPD the day my roommate in college claimed I tried to kill her and I was sent to the mental institution where I used to volunteer. That was fun. Don't worry you are safe from me. My scissor wielding days are all but over. Though I will always be grateful to that girls paranoia because I am in my longest relationship to date, 3 months. I was diagnosed less than a year ago and I still pretty much hate myself, still take the pills that make me sleepy yet bored, and cannot maintain a job. But they say I'm getting better.

I have not had a violent hulk fit for a few months and I usually remember that reality exists. The normal folk don't get the significance of those accomplishments, or that they ever could be accomplishments, but I am very proud of them. I go online every once in a while and read the description of my diagnosis; mood swings, self-mutilation, angry, depressed, bla bla bla. I do this to remind myself that these are my current qualities, but not the ones I am stuck with. Hope! Hope sucks. What I hate the most is the functional numbness of it all. I laugh and dream and try like I am just another member of the rat race. I feel like it sometimes too. The descriptions, the frequently asked questions, the psychiatrists, they don't tell you what to do when you look up into someones face and wonder, do I know you? or did your personality get sucked into the vast numbness void.

Do you know? Do you know how to be happy and healing? To pretend you understand what better means? To get your relationships together?
Chatytogo Chatytogo
18-21, F
1 Response May 19, 2012

what pills do you take? I haven been prescribed anything yet my violent outbursts are one of the most prominent traits I have. Just waiting for therapy, and expected to live on my own in a shithole and see this "care co ordinator" once every new ******* moon.

I'm on 40 of celexa. living on my own SUCKED! I totally feel your pain. And while you are waiting for therapy find some anger outlet. Who am I to talk? The holes in my walls could answer that. But I found this book called "Wreck this Journal" that helps you ruin the the book in great ways!