Lately I’ve had an odd time being with myself. I haven’t really been with myself, because I realise that I find myself unbearable to be. I’ve been a lot happier then I have ever felt in the last ten years in myself, but I literally watch myself from another perspective be destructive, and impulsive, and moulding into everyone, and latching onto everything. I’m really no better at coping with my own behaviour, I just do so in a typically borderline way, rather than depressive way. I’m back to my seventeen year old narcissistic self again. I’m going to crash again , I’m just not sure how, or when, or how hard it will be.
"Would you believe me at all if I told you that bipolar was the most tame of my problems?"
What if I told you that you could walk in freedom from chains and blades that burn you? That you are enough. You are loved so much. That love will not only be written upon your arms, but all over you, so that it purifies your heart and your spirit, and renews your soul. That someone will hold your scars engraved on your heart and mind, and they will be your guide to salvation. There is life from what dies. The past that stole your hope for a future is redeemed, and forgiven.
You are right to cry. “I can’t do this alone”
Your Guess Is As Good As Mine.