The one thing that is worse than feeling too much is feeling nothing. I feel hollow. I don’t feel like me. I feel like a seashell you find on the beach. Pretty to look at but not useful for much.

It really sucks that I can’t talk to my mom about my issues. Whenever I do she says, “Just tell your brain to not do what it’s doing.” She has this ability to shut her brain down, I don’t. I struggle with it so much. I can’t tell her that I’m fairly certain I have a personality disorder. That I fit into 90% of the symptoms. I can’t tell her that I’m scared of myself. That I hate this sick excuse of human being that stole my name. I can’t tell her that I’m in love with a boy thousands of miles away and has probably forgotten about me. Oh wait. I might not actually be in love with him. Maybe it’s just my brain conjuring up some twisted fantasy that my personality is going to cling onto for the next week and half before I fall into a pit on depression.

But this boy is everything. He is funny, empathetic, a little damaged. And I know he doesn’t want a relationship, especially not a long distance. But I want him in my life. Just as a friend. I couldn’t imagine my life without him.

I just feel stuck. I don’t know to tell my mom about the BPD. I don’t know how to explain to this kid how I feel about him. I’m stuck.