A blog that's less of a blog and more of an open letter to my own miserY

Four years ago I was diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder.

every day since has been a paradox.

I live as though I’m unaware of my illness while simultaneously tethering myself to it like it’s my identity. I talk about it with friends as if I’m presenting at a third-grade show-and-tell. I’ve memorized every symptom studied every subtype and know that mine—Quiet BPD—isn't even recognized in the DSM-5. I can map the logic behind every destructive habit I have, pinpoint the reasons for my behavior, and understand exactly how pitiful it all is. And yet for four years I’ve done nothing but worship my misery as though it were a religion.

I get high on my own torment. I don’t drink water, eat vegetables, or take care of myself. I abuse Adderall, am incapable of having "just one drink", and struggle to brush my teeth or shower. I have episodes at work, blow through my money, forget to pay my bills, lie to my friends, and hide from my family. I choke on my pain. I throw plates at the fridge and cut myself with the broken shards. I make strange faces at my reflection like I’m trying to recognize the person staring back.

None of this is human.

None of this is normal.

It has to end, I know it does. But this idea of remission, of recovery, has always felt unfathomable.

Borderlines don’t recover—we adapt.

I will never be untethered from this. So, what’s left? What can I do?

I can change the narrativE.

For so long, melancholy convinced me I wasn’t worthy of a better life. But now, I see that my melancholy might actually be the only thing capable of creating one. I have to use it, respect it, and learn to control it.

My misery IS a god... cruel and demanding.

But all gods serve a purpose.

There is discipline in taking something ugly and turning it to gold.

Even if it’s something as simple as words strung together with Tumblr girl tendencies. 

There is value in creating.

There is purpose in finding beauty in the terror.

through shameless and raw expression

it's strength in vulnerability.

it's power.

it's a blog.

Welcome to Beauty and Terror.