Today has been a bad day, another bad day. I don’t have good days.

I thought I had a friend. I dared to hope and I was wrong to do so. Just for a few moments I thought I had someone in my life that I could call a friend. it doesn’t happen to people like me. I thought they cared, I thought they supported me, I thought they were on my side. I was wrong. Tonight I found out that my illness, my borderline personality disorder traits have broken her, the one I dared to dream was my friend.

I am needy, I am obsessive, I am paranoid about people leaving me, I use alcohol to help me cope with life, I can’t handle being on my own at times, I overreact to the smallest things, I want people to spend time with me, I’m jealous of everyone that is close to their family, I’m jealous of everyone that has friends in their life, I hate everyone that has a best friend, I cut myself with a knife just so I can feel something, suicide is on my mind constantly, I pray for a terminal illness everyday, I am miserable.

The medication has helped with the obsessional thinking but nothing else.

They couldn’t cope with my behaviours, to be fair, I can’t either. I tried to be nice and get them a thoughtful birthday present but even that’s been taken with contempt and mistrust. I can’t do anything right.

I’ve always told people to tell me the truth but no matter how much I say it they never do. Instead they hate me behind my back and that hurts more than anything. I can’t do anything about it until it’s too late. Then they don’t want to know me anymore. I know I’m not easy to be around.

I regret the fact that I have this mental illness.

Death is the only release. My soul hurts all the time