BPD/HPD Maybe.......

Maybe


It's 2 a.m. and i'm not as tired as i was 20 minutes ago. 20 minutes ago i was drained and ready for bed, then i logged on here.

Now i'm drained, but drained of something a bit more precious. Or perhaps, i'm drained of something far less than precious, something toxic. Maybe.


Words and phrases bouncing around in my head after logging on here: "thinks relationships are more intimate than they actually are" and "idealisation" and "black and white thinking" "HPDs don't do well with disappointment"


I can't really escape this.

Somehow, i am me..........and all the circumstances which lead to my creation, lead to the inevitable realisation that i was right all along. Maybe.
Nobody really cares about me, enough....for me to really care about them.


And all these little games......and hopes.......and rewards when promise is tempted with the idea of fulfillment, DO NOT mean anything beyond the mere taste of the moment.

"if music be the food of love, play on" Shakespeare



I am not sure why i continue to construct elaborate fantasies around my meals.......they are simply and elegantly dinner. I will always be hungry, if i continue to eat..........believing that one day i will become full.
It's this fullness.......this satiety that allows me to continue to fear losing something that will never be, if it need be recognised.



Without idealisation........i'm not sure what i am doing. All i know is that i still have a habitual need to search for validation, even though i cannot fathom why it should matter........what anyone thinks.

I still need it to matter, want it to matter..........maybe.



My emotions shift so quickly..........i barely care, or i care a hell of a lot. Without idealising......i barely care a hell of a lot.
F))cking joke to me............i feel like i need a diamond so badly and everyone all around me looks flawless till i get close enough to see that they are coal.........all are coal.


I do accept........i may be some sort of monster. Maybe.
I cannot accept.........that it matters, without undeniable proof that you are far enough from me.....for me to derive what it is that i need from you, beyond simple instinct.



I don't care about you. I know that.........i'd kill you right now if no one was looking and i could benefit from it........why does it matter what you think? What does it matter what i think about myself....if i'm the only one here.


And yes......if i go the other way, i can love and cherish you. Everyone is gold....etc............but still the same problem arises.
Why idealise anyone? We're all gold.........what does it matter if you leave, more gold will be along to replace you.


It's just not logical, to have any sort of logic about it.

And i've known that all along................and my feelings are so f)))ked up. I intellectualise..........and that can't work, without idealisation.


With some heroic, epic, value i place upon someone.........to make it worth, thinking of them as worth it.........



You remind me of that.......everytime you don't answer my post, or PM me back or disagree with me or say something stupid or leave...........or do anything.
All of you, that are all of the same.

Nothing, beyond my instinct......to need to see myself as something, in your measure.




It's not that i am afraid that you'll leave........it's that i like you so much better when you are gone.
When you're unknown..............unreal. So i can be unreal too...........



it really doesn't matter how i end this.


You can't help me. And now i can't pretend i care about you. Just tell me you like me , that's all i want.......you nameless internet satellites. Potential satellites........preformed satellites......never will form satellites.........doesn't matter.........................






Mask off. Take your mask off..............take it off. It's not worth the effort.

You're right, there isn't any logic behind idealization. It's an irrational thing we do when our egos aren't fully developed/complete.

The gold and diamonds need to come from within, not from others.

It all boils down to [somehow] becoming the thing we seek in others – the thing we never got to become since the time we were small children.


P.S. I like you (and I sure as hell am not the only one).

Your kinda like me...therefore: I like you, I dislike you, I like you, I dislike you, I like you, I dislike you......

I need to tell myself this everyday.

I start to believe it's reality far too often.

Wait, what is reality?


I like you twisted. Know.

Sometimes I like you. Like today. But then again, you may want to ask me tomorrow, because these things change.

Your post is sort of what I posed to my therapist yesterday....

If nothing is constant, then how in the world do you gain the understanding of trust?

Because.... EVERYTHING CHANGES.



Sucks, right? Yeah, she didn't have any answers either.

AMP