Let’s see how this goes...

*Warning* There will be sensitive content in this blog that could be very triggering. Please read at your own risk. I can't imagine what it must feel like to be my lover or even my mother for that fact. I imagine it as a never-ending burden or watching yourself die in a mirror. Sure, I know this will sound super dramatic but these are the things that keep me up at night.  Honestly, I find myself so exhausted of my own behavior and anxiety that I can see why anyone would choose to distance themselves from me. Then my abandonment issues hit me like a motherfucker. Shit can get rough out here when you trust absolutely no one because anytime you have, you've gotten your shit ROCKED! I know I am not alone on this feeling because 90% of people I've met have daddy issues.  I am so comfortable with despair, it is really all I have ever known. I find myself randomly crying even when I have just had a good day. All of a sudden I get a flashback or something trigge...

I think it is necessary to talk about myself? So, I just turned 21 in May, and it hasn't been as fun for me as it has been for my friends. I am also the super broke friend. But, I have also spiraled into a dark pit of being VERY anti-social, and I have been very influenced to be this way. In May I also got a beautiful baby boy pug named Squish and let me tell you... HE IS EVERYTHING! He just turned four months and he is all I have ever wanted, like, literally. When I was younger I would ask my parents every year for my birthday to get a pug but the answer was always no. So dramatic ol' me would throw a fit on the floor by crying for maybe an hour every year. I work as a child care provider and I take care of infants, I am pretty happy with my job but I still find myself dreading it every morning. I know right now in my life my depression is slowly taking full control of my body. I find almost nothing enjoyable and it is so hard to want to do my fucking laundry. When I was 12...

I’m not really sure how to start this... I want to treat this like a diary, or maybe I’m just writing a letter to myself that I will read in 30 minutes and regret this IMMEDIATELY.  I have always wanted to start a blog but I’ve never had the courage. Maybe no one but myself and my mom will read this but hey. Then in that case this IS a letter to myself that I’ll regret. Anyways, I’m not sure what this will be about, I don’t plan to stick to a “theme”. All I know is that I am an aspiring journalist, I like food, traveling, pugs and I need a place to openly talk about my recent issues with my bpd diagnosis. Like I said, I’ll most likely just bullshit on here.  Something about me... I’m fickle.  I think this is the end.