Welcome to UnderCover Borderline.

Hello, and thanks for reading. You can call me Dee. I'm a young college woman with a lot on her plate, on top of BPD.
I don't go to therapy, or take medication. I would love to, I'm positive it would be ridiculously helpful. But I have yet to find a doctor who takes my insurance, is accepting new patients, and is willing to take a BPD client. So until my luck changes, or I'm convincing enough to get a doctor to take me, I suffer.
This blog is my life, as I perceive it.

Sunday, November 7, 2010

I can't think of a post to cover my self-rage

Oh fucking christ.

Oh FUCKING christ.

WHY? what the fuck was wrong with me?

I was drunker than I ever thought possible, that's what.

And I sincerely hope I don't burn a bridge because of it.

He is a wonderful lovely man that I showed all my crazy too last night.

FUCK.

And I dropped the L word. I know I didn't mean it, not in that way and not completely.

But I do care, a lot.

And we cuddled.

A lot.

And talked

And he took me to Waffle House to sober me up.

Which apparently he also did cause he likes spending time alone with me.

Loverly.

Maybe we'll go on a date sometime.

Or maybe he'll run once he wakes up today.

But he stayed long enough last night; and that means a great deal.

Right?

Oh he's so broken, but I wouldn't begin to understand someone who's not.

Why is it that everyone has that one person that has absolutely destroyed them?

I want to kick her, and I don't even know her.

You fucked up girl, and you missed out hxc.

But how could someone hurt that dear boy?

I don't want to, but I did last night a bit I know.

He was shaking, heart trying to burst through his chest.

Because I said I love you.

He was so angry, though he kept it bottled up at the time.

And we fooled around. Which is what we do.

I'm so hung over now.

And I can't wait for him to wake up.

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