Borderline Personality Disorder

So lately I’ve been watching a lot of videos and blogs as well as informative videos about all of the things I’ve been diagnosed with to kind-of understand it, considering that for me, my behaviour doesn’t feel like an illness or a chemical imbalance at all. Until recently, I never knew that my BPD existed, so of course I thought everyone with depression and anxiety felt the same things that I do every day, and had the same relationship issues as I do. But as it turns out, a lot of my relationship and mental stressors are caused by my borderline personality disorder; which is essentially a serious mental illness which is characterized by unstable moods, behaviour and relationships. It can be caused genetically, or from environmental factors, and I’m not entirely sure where mine comes from, because I haven’t picked up on any BPD traits coming from either of my parents. This disorder is also commonly paired with substance abuse, depression, anxiety, etc. and you usually have trouble regulating your thoughts and forming personal relationships stably. From what I’ve gathered, there are 3 main parts involved in BPD and relationships, which is idealizing, devaluating, and splitting. All of these things I can personally relate to. And I shall explain them all, as well as how my BPD has effected me, and how I’m dealing with it now, and my recent recollection of psychotic episodes.

Okay, so first off, there is idealizing. Which is basically when someone with BPD meets another person, whether it be in a personal relationship, or a romantic relationship, and you create this image in your mind of what you think they should be or do. Whether it be them bringing you gifts, or being romantic, or being smart, or saying certain things, etc. Basically anything that you make them out to be that is positive in any way. You think the world of them, you put them on a pedestal, you believe they can do no wrong, and that they’ll fix you or be everything that you want them to be. For example, in my own relationship, I constantly make up scenarios in my head, of Connor coming to school with me, or bringing me somewhere nice, or getting me something nice, and I used to imagine that my perfect person would do grand romantic gestures, and all of these wonderful things. So I was creating a distorted wonderful image of who I wanted him to be.

Now, devaluating is the opposite of that, which personally happens to me more than idealizing, in my recent life. Devaluating and idealizing can fluctuate, and they’re on two different sides of the spectrum. One is black, and one is white. Often in a relationship (no matter what type of relationship) people with BPD will switch between these two options very, very quickly. Sometimes with a small trigger, and sometimes for no reason at all. Personally I find it happens a lot more often when I have time to think. For example, I’ll be getting ready, and Connor will be sleeping, and I’ll sit beside him, and draw on him, and think about how wonderful he is, and then a few minutes later after thinking about something he did wrong in the past, suddenly that wonderful view of him is entirely destroyed and now everything is his fault in my head. I’ll go off on him, I’ll get angry, I’ll get frustrated, etc.  But while in my devaluing state, there is no more of that wonderful view of him. I can try and remind myself of it, but my mood will stay sour and my mind will keep pinning things on him. Occasionally when something bad does actually happen, my brain will basically shut down, and I’ll go into an episode, where I’ll cut, or rock back and forth and whisper, or scream, or throw things. (Usually these happen when I’m alone.)

Something I’ve realized about BPD is that people with it are very good at twisting people’s words around. You have an overwhelming sense of insecurity, and nothing is ever your fault- you’re never the bad guy. In an argument, your partner or friend will say something, and you’ll find incredibly sneaky and strategic ways to make them feel bad, or feel like they’re the wrong one. And to you, maybe they are the wrong one. Because this mental illness overwhelms your brain. To this day, I don’t think anything that has happened in the past is my fault. I still find fault in everyone else, even though I am acutely aware of this behaviour being an action from my borderline personality disorder. I’m also very good at lying because of this, as well as picking up on other people’s movements and emotions and mannerisms (which may just be because of my social anxiety and quietness.)

The last part of relationships with bpd is splitting, which is the switch between the last two things. It usually happens very, very quickly for me, from a matter of seconds to about 10 minutes. Of course I don’t know anyone else with BPD so it’s incredibly hard to tell if that’s something that changes with person to person, or if it’s a universal thing.

Something else that I’ve VERY commonly struggled with that is included in borderline personality disorder is an overwhelming fear of abandonment. Every relationship for you will not be permanent in your eyes. You will constantly be thinking that people are starting to hate you, or that people don’t actually like you, and your fear of this will greatly reduce your successful friendships and relationships. You will have a desire to leave before being left, or push people away before they can hurt you. This is a common thing for a lot of other people, but from what I understand, it’s much worse and to a much greater degree for those with BPD. Their mind does not leave this type of thinking.

I’ve recently learned that BPD can also include brief psychotic episodes, and 80 percent of people with borderline personality disorder are suicidal, and a lot of them do have issues with physical self harm- all things that I’ve struggled with immensely. The most interesting part to me, though, are the brief psychotic episodes. I’ve witnessed psychosis, and manic episodes in multiple videos, which scare me greatly, and they’re almost like when you’re watching an exorcism film and the person is dark and sinister, and sarcastic, and sexual, almost like that. Since they had that effect on me, I never really saw myself as someone who got psychotic episodes until I started to think more about it, and how people with BPD often have them to a lesser degree.

It brings me to when I was younger, and if I was occupying myself, sometimes I would have this thing, where I would focus on the silence so much, that I started to feel like I would go crazy, and I’d want to hit my head, or scream, and I’d whisper things to myself, and I’d yell and scream inside my head because I was trying to break the silence, and I’m not sure if that’s because of my borderline personality disorder, but it happened to me the other day. Every time that I paint, and I’m alone, I get that silence, and i start to yell inside my head, and I feel like I’m going to burst into tears or throw things or explode, and I start to whisper, and my head gets all blurry and complicated- it’s hard to explain. But I’ve also had these sinister feelings wash over me, where I’m so emotional that I start to rock back and forth and I feel like I’m going crazy, and I want to pull my hair or hit myself, or do something, and I’d scratch at my arms. It seems strange to me that of all the things I’ve been acutely aware of regarding my emotional stability I never once questioned any of these actions or feelings, and I never attached them in my mind as being some form of psychotic episode.

I don’t know, I just thought I’d give my own experiences and a little info on what’s going on in my head from a psychological standpoint.

 

Decisions & Decor

Hello lovelies, or the 1 person who’s probably looking at this. It’s that time again, where I naggily remind you that we’ve made a new post on our other blog, called gracelessdays, where we talk about apartment hunting, weird encounters, and College-y teenager-y couple-y things with a continuation on my mental illness from this particular blog! After that endearing description I’ll leave you with a link to our newest post, titled “Connor.”

Here it is!

Make sure to follow/emailsubscribe/giveusyourcat and other fun things!

Apartments & Hunts

Hello, for those of you small amount of followers that don’t know, I recently purchased another url, and I’ve only made a few posts on it, but today I made a new one! It would be greatly appreciated if you folks would follow me there! I’ll leave the link to my newest post below!

Melodie #2- NEW BLOG

Moving Blogs

Hello, wonderful people! I would just like to make it known that I recently purchased a url where I will be continuing my blog, called gracelessdays.com, where you can follow me if you please (but please do, because you people are lovely and I’ll miss having nearly 100 followers) (plus like seriously guys I’m paying for that stuff, $18 a year better be made worth it.) So this will be my probably (maybe not) final post on this particular url but I will be updating at least weekly on my other url!

Last Post Of All Time

This will be my last post on this particular blog. Basically, I’ve had it with not being able to say what I’d like to, because of the fact that people I know will see this. So I will only address a few things.

1) This is my blog. This is where I say what I feel, what my ideas are, and what my thoughts and personal opinions are. It is not a place for you to read into my innermost thoughts and then outwardly disagree and criticize everything I say. The last post I made I was not speaking about whatever we had, I was talking about our friendship when I said it’s not my fault that it’s over. I’ve made more than one attempt to talk to you, and just like me looking at your tumblr, you looking at my text did not justify you not answering, just like my looking doesn’t mean I tried to talk to you. Because it’s an effort that the other party has not seen. Honestly, at this point I’ve lost most of my respect for you- and you thought I’d lose it for you after you were all over me. After that last post, especially. I always thought you were open-minded, and the fact that we have certain opinions that aren’t totally the exact same does not make us any different than we thought we were. It means we have different situations life has put us through, not to mention we’re at different maturity levels, and drastically different ages. I have the right to my bias opinions just like you do. It’s hypocritical to say that the fact that I don’t want my Mother undermining my physical and personal decisions and criticizing me to be more feminine from a young age- and yes, she does still do it now, thank you for your assumption- to be wrong when you constantly complain about your Father’s ideas of you not being a man- or masculine enough. It’s a little petty to get back at me for leaving and mentioning MY relationship in MY blog by criticizing me and telling me I’m trying to make you feel bad in the only sacred place I can say how I actually do feel. I didn’t tell you to read that post, and I didn’t expect you to- so obviously I didn’t specifically plan it out with the sole intent of making you feel guilty for what? Accepting that I’ve got a boyfriend and I’ve moved? No, I’m simply disagreeing with how you went about it, and the fact that we didn’t get to be friends. Honestly, I take back saying I didn’t regret what we did together, because although it made my relationship with Connor stronger, it also made me lose someone else who could have potentially been a great friend. I think you’re a wonderful person, Nathan. But one day you’re going to really going to hurt yourself because of these impulsive decisions you make. You don’t care who you hurt, especially not if it’s yourself. You just dig- or cut- even deeper without a second thought. That day I cut, and you held my hand, you could have pulled away, do you know that? I didn’t force you to touch me. I didn’t ask you to sit with me. You didn’t have to draw on me, you didn’t have to do any of that.

2) In my post I did not dig at males for their bodies, I was just simply stating that even though I do know that it’s legal, it seems strange to me that it’s SOCIALLY frowned upon for women to expose themselves. What I’m saying is women’s breasts are used for a natural thing- which is feeding their children. Men’s nipples are entirely natural, yes- but they’re pointless. What purpose do they serve? It’s silly to think of that factor. That we uncover all that’s unimportant and pointless but the natural, beautiful things, we wrap up and protect like it’s some sort of fucking golden ticket. I don’t care about being ashamed of my body, I don’t care if you’re ashamed of yours. For a large part we’ve seen each other’s bodies. But its not right that women are treated like their bodies are something to cover. Fuck’s sake I don’t’ even know why I’m justifying my thoughts to you. These are my opinions. I didn’t ask you to hold them, or even to read it, but you did. You don’t have to agree, but you also don’t have to be condescending and rude. The factor that women’s breasts are far more sexualized may have been around for a long time, but hey, so has segregation and racism, but does that mean we have to be totally closed minded to that, too? I understand that’s the two have giant differences but the fact of the matter is, you have nipples, I have nipples, only one of us gets to display them without being cat-called at or insulted- that’s it. That is the simple little thought I wanted to mention before you blew it entirely out of proportion. Congratulations. Please, have a run at this blog post, too.

3) The other point- or rather decision- that I’ve made has nothing to do with this, at all. But since this is my last blog post on this url, or blog (I haven’t decided which I’m changing to, because I almost have 100 followers and I’d like to keep all of them that I don’t personally know) I wanted to mention it. Connor and I have decided to get an apartment together, we’ve gone to see a lot of them, but I think we found the one we really want, today. I’m a little more excited than he is, he’s very prone to getting stressed whereas I just really want a place of my own, so I fly right through the decision. We’re short on money, so he’s been talking to his grandparents and his Dad to see if either one can lend us money until our OSAP comes through to pay the first and last’s rent, money for groceries and also money for plates, forks, toaster, blah, blah, and hopefully nobody else steals the apartment, and we’ll be able to move in August 15th! It’s pretty decent, it’s got a bathroom, kitchen, bedroom, and living room (although we’ll probably use that for an office at first), and it’s been completely re-done top to bottom, and it’s beautiful. I’ve always wanted this life, and I’m really excited about moving out on our own, and going grocery shopping, and shopping for mugs, and salt and pepper shakers. We’ll be pretty poor, but hey. This whole time, this blog has been called “collegeandbuddhism” and I’ve only just reached College life. Frankly, I’m pretty terrified. Right now, I just want to eliminate all of the bad from my life, which is why I’m switching this blog to something else. As much as I wish for you to have happiness, I don’t want you to intrude on mine like me reading your posts has. I’d like to see how you’re doing, but you don’t really touch base on that, and well, I don’t really owe you any explanations or descriptions on my life, not that you asked. But with that, you don’t owe me explanations either, and your blog doesn’t really have any, anymore. Just a lot of frustration that’s been weighing me down. I don’t really know what else to say, but, goodbye for now on this url. I’d also like to happily mention that I’ve been cut free for well over a month.

Catching Up

I’ve recently found myself noticing more gender specific rules in our world lately, and it’s what I’ve been filling my head with. Yesterday I was in the bathroom, and I realized that the only things we’re forced into covering is our natural body parts- thus making me realize that hey, men are allowed to walk around topless, and female’s breasts are treated like a totally sexual and harmful object to put on display, even though they’re actually used for natural causes, and men’s nipples are basically useless. So does their uselessness make them displayable in public areas, and are we covering everything of beauty and use on our bodies, or what? My legs are natural and have a use, but I don’t need to entirely conceal them from the world, although if I were to be sexually harassed, me displaying a large portion of my legs could be used against me in a not very dignified argument that I was dressed like a slut, so I deserved it. It’s such a weird circle of pointing fingers and over-sexualizing the body I was given. It also bothers me that even from a young age, girls are treated like they’ve done something wrong by being in possession of a female body. When I was younger, my Mom used to scold me all the time when I wore dresses, telling me to “sit ladylike” when really, she could have just allowed me to run around, considering I had nothing of “importance” to show, since my body hadn’t matured at all, yet. But the largest fix could have been just not buying into gender specific roles, and letting me dress however I was most comfortable, not the most “pretty” or feminine. I’m all for embracing my feminine side, and wearing dresses, and of course I would buy some for my daughter when I have one, but if the world was more accepting, I’d probably get some for my son, too.

I understand that a lot of this isn’t really that interesting, so I’ll move on. I’m only going to touch base on this for a second, because of a post that’s recently been made. You can move on from me, and say what’s healthy and what isn’t healthy, and be angry with me for not coming with you to walk you home, but what difference will it make? I’m in a different part of my life, you’re in a different part of yours. It’s not to say that I regret it, because I don’t. It made my relationship a lot healthier, and I got to know you, as much as you would let me. But don’t you dare get angry at me for not walking you home that day, and stray from the fact that I spent my prom with you, not saying anything, not being with my other friends, and not having the time I could have, because you were alone. Me not walking you home is not a symbol, or a point from the God’s for you to say “well, I guess that finalizes things.” Because I gave up a lot more than you gave up for me, and to ignore that and just blatantly say that as though I didn’t feel guilty is frustrating as hell. You barely even talked to me, except when it was convenient for you. You balanced me, and I made all my time available for you. You told me you didn’t want me, and then when you noticed I’d cut that day on the bus, you touched me again, and  that was unfair. I had to sit beside you every day and tell myself not to touch you. Even before we started what we started, I cried on the bus beside you because I knew you wouldn’t like me. That’s how I felt for you. So don’t you do that to me. Not now, not when it’s over. It was a complicated situation and now it’s over, and I want you to be happy, I really do. But my mistake is not the reason that it’s over. Life is the reason it’s over. My mistake plays no part in how easy or not easy it is for me, and probably you. I’ve tried to talk to you, for fucks sake, your tumblr is in my top sites, I’m half of your views, probably more, but you’re the one who let our friendship plan fall apart. Not me. There are no signs from God, or messages in my words that are meant to decide whether we could be friends or not, because we could have been. There were two trails in life you could have chosen, and one was being my friend, and one wasn’t. You decided, it didn’t just fall apart. Someone has to let it fall apart, that’s how life works. I’m not being thrown around by this anymore, so I wish you luck in life, and I’m glad you’re still paying attention to my life. I just wish you said something back to make me feel a little more like I mattered, or I made some sort of a difference in your life.

We went to Toronto on Saturday, which was pretty nice. I’ve always loved Toronto, and the culture, and the bustle. I like feeling small, and realizing that there’s so much more out there, and that’s how it makes me feel, just like that’s how going to the Boardwalk and sitting at the end of the docks and looking out at the water makes me feel. Anyways, we went there, and spent $500 each on clothes, which was much needed, because I was in a dark place, and as lame as it sounds, having something new and fresh to wear makes it seem more like we’re starting a new life. Throwing out memories laced on clothes makes it seem more real, just like planning for next summer and our apartment hunt makes it seem more real. Anyways, while at the mall, we met Toronto Batman, which is basically this guy who’s been dressing up in a really expensive Batman costume and running around Toronto for a few years, and he’s gained quite a fanbase through that. Here’s a picture of me and him, and his friend who dresses as the Joker:

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Anyways, Toronto was really nice, actually. It was kinda a bummer that I was supposed to be moving there at this time, if my life plans followed how I wanted them to when I was in grade 10, but things changed a lot throughout that time. I mean, at that time, I wanted to be a Journalist, ignoring the fact that I hate politics and I can’t interact with people well, and the fact that I don’t want to be handing people their coffee for years. I only really wanted it because of the fact that I loved and still do love writing, but mainly creatively, and the fact that becoming an Author isn’t exactly something to do for a living, especially since you can’t live on no money until you finish and publish the book, which takes a long time. But since then, like I said, things have changed. But my plans have shifted back to Toronto, and I’ve planned to move there after College. I mean, out of all places, Toronto is the perfect place to be someone who counsels troubled teens- there’s plenty of those in such a populated and urban area. Anyways, it’s been my dream to live there in a studio apartment and go to a random cafe and read books, and help people. I just have to become educated on the helping people part. When we left the Eaton’s Centre, there was this guy drumming to Michael Jackson music, and it basically just made the day even better. It made me feel independent, to be able to go there without telling anyone and find our way around, and come back, too. I think that’s what makes people mature, or adults. Being able to navigate by yourself, without the help of your parents for once, and making decisions on your own. That’s the start of something. I’ll attach some pictures of Toronto.

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There’s not much else that’s exciting happening aside from us going swimming practically every day, which has caused me of all people to gain a slight tan, without burning to a crisp for once.  It’s been uncomfortably hot everywhere for the past couple of days, and a lot of the time we can’t even sleep upstairs in our bedroom, and instead I have to sleep on a duvet on the living room floor, and Connor sleeps on the tiny couch. I don’t mind falling asleep up here, since we just bought a tower fan the other day and I can point it at my face, but I hate waking up in a boiling hot room with my skin sticking to the bed where I can barely breathe and my face is oily. It’s not the most appealing situation, so sleeping downstairs until the heat dies down is the plan. During the day I don’t come up here much either, and I hang out on the couch until I build up the energy to want to put on makeup and get dressed in my uncomfortable (and annoyingly revealing) bathing suit that makes me want to cover my whole body in blankets and curl up and die. The swimming part is fun, I just don’t like exposing myself in public very much. The other day we spent a couple of hours at the beach, and went swimming for a while, then got cold, sat and watched the kids at the splash pad, then got hot and went for another swim. It was fairly nice, I always like going swimming, its just not the walk home or to the beach that I enjoy. It’s fairly close, I’m just a lazy person, especially in heat like this.

Photo on 13-07-16 at 5.34 PM #4

Photo on 13-07-17 at 2.59 PM #7

 

Anyways, there’s not much else to talk about aside from me dying my hair pink and then redying it back to my normal colour in a less than 12 hour period, and also being so terrified to go downstairs with pink hair that I spent 7 hours in the hot upstairs bedroom holding in my pee and not eating. It was a pretty smooth move. Also we’ve been visiting a cat a lot, which sounds totally lame but he comes up to us and we sit and pet him every time he’s outside at night when we walk past, we’ve even started to do it purposely and only walk past to see him and  then when we see him we’ll come home, and now he even runs up to us, I’m constantly fighting my urges to catnap him and name him Hemingway and snuggle him to death.

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Though She Needs You More Than She Loves You

“She’d smile and say ‘Don’t pray for me yet’ and I’d say ‘No problem’ Religion is something I gave up on. But love, love is a feeling that in me and through me I have often called god, so I will love you.”

This will be my 70th post on this blog, and I never really noticed or viewed that as an accomplishment, but I’m sort-of seeing it that way, now.

I’ve had enough interesting things to say, or boring stories to tell, or random rants to go on, and someone has always read that. A part of me will be in whoever is reading this, and even if we don’t know each other at all, even if coming here was a mistake, you’re still getting to know how I form sentences, how I run away from important things, or how I’m manipulative. Every fact, or trait I mention, you’re knowing me. I don’t know why I’m proud of letting people know me- or maybe it’s somehow connecting to someone, even one person, with my words. I’ve always wanted to be a writer, to put together such nice ideas, to convey the beauty I see in the world through words, to be popularly quoted on tumblr just because I have a beautiful mind. Those things are important to me in life, much like the stars are. Not seeing them, the first little while of being here, made me feel pretty lonely. Looking up and just seeing black, not being able to place even the little dipper. That wouldn’t bother most people, but for me it was like a larger connection, almost. When you’re looking at the stars, it’s pretty likely that somewhere, someone else is, too. And maybe they feel that connection, too. Maybe it takes away their loneliness, because in a small way, you’re being lonely together.

A lot has happened over the course of time that I’ve had this blog, and I’ve talked about nearly all of it. Here, I don’t feel like my problems aren’t important, because they don’t need to be. No matter how petty I sound sometimes, it won’t matter, because I’m not forcing people to come here, and listen to my complaints- they just show up, out of thin air, onto this new page where a girl is having issues with self harm, or relationship problems. They don’t see me, where I’m sitting, what I’m wearing, or really, who I am. So it’s not my job to make my problems interesting, or my face presentable- it’s just my job to try and describe them and how it makes me feel as accurately as possible. This is the opposite of normal society. On the internet, things are backwards. You see my words, my thoughts, me as a human being, and if you search, sure, you can find my face. But that’s not what’s vital to this page. In real life, you see a person. You see their hair, their eyes, their complexion, but it’s a lot harder to find their personality, or their heart- that part is only vital on the inside. So we can judge outwardly in the real world, but this isn’t the real world, this is my world. And it’s really important to me that I’ve been able to make the commitment to keep it, and keep posting, and only threaten to shut it down once. I’ve never been able to really do that before.

Anyways, life has been pretty boring lately, aside from my mood swings, and the 12 hour time period where I had 4 different hair colours. The weather has been so warm, and everything’s been going downhill, and I just really want to be alone. I never feel special, only replaceable by technology and girls on Facebook from pasts. If I get looked at, it’s never in a nice way, I never feel special from it, because it’s purely based on lust. I don’t want to live this life, really- not one where I’m lonely in the presence of another person, constantly wishing for attention like some sort of deprived animal. You shouldn’t be lonely with someone else, they should take away your loneliness. Every human being deserves to feel special, and no matter how much I threaten or push, I’ve never gotten to feel special for more than a 24 hour period. I don’t get told that I’m pretty, and when I do it feels forced, or like I’m meant to treasure the compliments. I’ve been in a relationship for practically 2 years and not once have I ever been brought somewhere nice, or gone on a date that I didn’t have to plan, because everything has to be my decision apparently. Some nights, when we’re at the park, and I’m laying in the saucer swing, staring at the stars, and having a cigarette, I think “I’d be content if this is what my life could end up life with someone.” But most days, I’m not that lucky. In that moment, swinging back and forth, I’m alone, and maybe that’s why I’m content. Most days I spend in bed, by myself, watching shows or sleeping and feeling disgusting and lonely, when really I’m not supposed to be lonely. I’ve felt so replaced by other people, by University, by the thought of how many girls are there- and there’s never been anyone to take that feeling away, because nobody cares enough to notice how I react to it. I mean, if I don’t even get brought along for a course selection that determines my partner’s entire future, even if I asked to come, that pretty much seems like I’m not welcome in that new life, and most days that’s how it feels, and seems. Like we’re embarking on a new life, and I’m not welcome in their life, and because of how that makes me feel, they won’t be welcome in mine, either. I guess this is what they say about high-school relationships and how they don’t work out because of how people change. I think that it only worked for my parents because my Mom didn’t go to College, so it was just my Dad, and he was too focused on having a family to provide for to even think to be distracted by all of the other options. He had responsibilities, he wasn’t a teenage boy anymore. He needed to go to school, have a job, and take care of my Mom and my brothers. But its much easier in my position to drift apart, and deny it’s happening. It’s much easier to live ignorantly until one day you clue in, and it’s not fixable anymore. I don’t know if I’d let it get that far. At this rate, I don’t know if I’d let it go past the end of the summer.

I’m tired of making plans for my future and then realizing they probably won’t happen. I’m tired of trying to end it because it won’t happen. I’m tired of being reacted to like I have no right to want to feel special. I’m tired of you making this out to seem like my fault- you know what I’m like, you know I have problems, you knew I’d be a lot of work, so don’t you dare cry to me over things you could have done. Don’t you dare sit across the room from me when I put on makeup, when all I want you to do is join me on the floor and draw on my back, and look in the mirror and look at me for once, instead of yourself. Because I notice things, unlike you. I notice that your eyes always look back at yourself more than they look at me when we stand in front of a mirror. I notice that you’ll never change, but you still promise it to me, and that when I get back with you, you try for a day and then you act like you did before. I may hate myself, but I know I’m worth more than that, and I will not hesitate to end this. I won’t. Because I want to feel special. I want the old relationship where you left me a note in the morning and made me breakfast- but even that was because of a night to morning fight over this same topic. Don’t you see it?