I Fucked Up, I Really Really Really Fucked Up. The First Thing You Need To Know Is That I Overshare,

why is my feed like this 😭💀

that bpd moment when you've been in an emotionally drained mood™ for a while and a small thing finally tips you over, and everyone things the latter is the reason you're having an emotional meltdown/breakdown and you don't know how to explain that it's cause of your hellfuck disorder not just that petty thing

The day I learnt how to check my pulse, I felt like I was holding my life in my own hand. It took me a long time to find that accurate spot, but once I did, I just couldn't understand how people refrained from checking their pulse all the time. It was evidence that I was alive, that no matter how I felt inside, my body was alive, that it was kicking, and it felt nothing short of a miracle. There seemed to be a certain kind of beauty in having the ability to feel my own heartbeat, in having a part of my heart extending to my wrist - so much so that it took my breath away, made it skip a beat.

I think I understand it better now - why people advise us against wearing our heart on our sleeve. When that very heart on our sleeve is an indication of our existence; when that very heart on our sleeve is the indication of whether we are living; when that pulse we feel is proof of survival - baring that to danger, to vulnerability, to scrutiny, may very well be an invitation to pain, to death. It is a direct route to our softest spot, an easy access to our precious safe. Who in their right mind would make themselves defenceless to threat of exposure?

After all, Achilles never went around flaunting his heel.

remember when we were younger and thought that calling people crazy/insane/mad and asking them if they've taken their meds that day and saying that they had a mental disorder/were mentally unstable and that there was something wrong with them was considered cool/fun/hilarious? bleck, the absolute horror-- can't imagine doing that shit rn. and can't imagine being friends with people who do that shit rn.

I genuinely feel like my family doesn't like me. I know they love me, because family and stuff, but there's a difference between liking someone and loving someone when it comes to familial relationships you know? I was having terrible, terrible, horrible, craving for death kinda cramps today and I desperately needed emotional support and I was crying and calling out to anybody, I literally yelled "somebody please" and they heard that and my grandma was coming and my uncle was like, I could hear him from the room, where are you going amma, don't go and stuff as if I was troubling her and I was an annoying baby who was crying and would stop it's crying when ignored long enough or something, but my grandma came and was like you know I have work, so I can't sit here with you, blah blah and your mom will come soon with the hot water bag, all this is happening because you never listen to us when we tell you to exercise so that your muscles will stretch, you don't even listen, now you're suffering etcetc and a lot of insensitive and cold stuff like that, not at all emotionally sensitive or comforting when I was suffering and I felt so fucking bad, so fucking heartbroken that I went silent. Then my mom came with the hot water bag and stuff and she lay with me for a while, not for me, but because she got an excuse to look at her phone and rest (she has a leg problem, so for that too) and then after a while, the water become lukewarm/cool and I told her that the hot water bag helped and if she could heat the water up and bring it and she sat up and kept looking at her phone and I waited for a while and the pain was returning so I asked her again and I was pissed that time, but I controlled it as much as I could (didn't yell like I usually did), and she was like stop getting angry and used her leg as an excuse as yo whyc she wasn't moving (which was an excuse because you can actually see the difference right? When a person is making an excuse and actually not okay) and scolded me a bit. Basically, when I needed softness and comfort and maybe a little pampering, all I got was bluntness, hard love, annoyance and being ignored. I don't remember the last I felt so fucking bad because of something people actively did (not internally feeling bad or hurt feelings feeling bad, feeling pathetic and like a burden). The words "I'll just kill myself and you'll all be finally rid of me and won't have a pain in tbe ass" was at the tip of my tongue (and I can't count how many times this thought ran through my head today), and if I was more non-woozy and had a teeny bit more energy, I would have blurted it out, honestly. I feel so fucking sick, in the miserable vaala way.

Tomorrow's a sunday and I've literally spent my weekend the same way I spend the rest of my days and I feel this chronic boredom and it's choking me and I was so fucking upset and I want to cry because I'm wasting my life and not doing anything worthwhile.

usually for the most part, if someone doesn't reply to me or sends short replies, i can try and rationalize - takes a lot of effort, but I can do it. But lately, many people have been doing it and my brain is deducting that as a pattern and my bpd is acting up and i feel upset and betrayed and abandoned and hurt and rageeee and this pressure in my head to start fights which is so fucking difficult to manage/control, and i just want to scream at everyone and punch myself

My maternal grandma and I were talking about large age gaps in relationships and the importance of sex education, especially for women and I was ranting about all this to her.

My mom and my grandma never had proper sex education. So whatever they learned, they had to learn from their older, much more educated husbands. And no matter how much a good person your husband is, in such a situation, there will be some amount of grooming/manipulation involved - consciously or unconsciously. They'll teach their wives things they like, they'll only impart limited knowledge - they can only teach another person things they know, so if they don't know anything about women's pleasure, they won't know how to tell their wives either. And purposely or not, they might only teach their wives things they like - so a woman believes that these are things they *have* to do while having sex, things they *have* to do in a marriage to make their husbands happy and they could live their whole life not knowing what they like/want. It's so easy for husbands to take advantage of their wives. Even if it's in a tiny way, still. And they might not give them proper sex education, sex education from an "objective" perspective. Moreover, if the husband is conservative and believes in sex only for procreation, they won't even try to make their wives feel good and their wives wouldn't know any better!

But this same man may have gone through pronographic magazines or whatever when he was younger, he may already know about male pleasure. He might have already explored his likes and dislikes, but his wife never got that chance, and now she never will.

It's all so fucking messed up.

My grandma agreed with me tho, completely.

Knew Tumblr would not post it again, so I took screenshots like a genius 👀

cishets™ : why do you have to make everything gay

me : we don't make everything gay, y'all made everything straight when you decided to close your eyes to how queer history actually was, and enforce heteronormativity and cissexism to such an extent that pointing out how un-cishet things actually were seems to you as if we're making everything gay, when in fact things were always already pretty much gay and you were just too bigoted to see it