I always forget to remember how sneaky BPD is. Just when you start thinking, hey, I've been maintaining a pretty healthy speed here....BAM. You're gas pedal sticks to the floor and you run yourself right into a guardrail.
It's so convincing. You really believe you feel the way you believe you feel. There you are, crying and babbling and begging people for things you can't even identify, and then it drops you back in the middle of your life, like the end of some emotional alien abduction. Mostly I just want to send letters to all the people I came in contacts with in the past two weeks.
I'm not really needy, insecure, hypersensitive, and over dramatic. Well, I am, but not REALLY really.
Another trip to Wellseley.
Another circle in the cornfield of my life.