Did I even get any sleep last night?
Am I even awake yet?
Oh no, didn’t want to read that on Facebook. Ouch.
Why is everyone flaunting their happy lives in front of me?
Oh God, it hurts to move.
Come on, you need to move.
No wait, remember that dream you had last night? What does that mean? Did that really happen?
Oh God, what will today bring?
Give yourself some credit, you’re out of bed, time for breakfast.
I should get dressed.
Maybe I’ll have a cigarette first. Somehow it doesn’t make me feel better, though.
Brush your teeth. I know its hard, but you need to brush your teeth. You’ll feel better.
OK, you’re dressed… makeup?
No, makeup is too much work.
Actually, maybe if I put some makeup on I’ll want to go out. Yeah, I feel good going to go to the shops. I’ll treat myself to something nice.
11 a.m. — I’m staring in the mirror, makeup surrounding me.
No, I can’t go out.
Yes you can, you’re feeling good.
Aw, that’s a cute video.
Haha, funny memes.
Wait, no, why did I watch that? Why is that not my life?
Why am I alone?
12 p.m. — I’ve not moved for 45 minutes now.
I’m sleepy, might nap.
No, it’s too early to nap. I’ll do some chores.
OK cool, got some shit done.
Not much, but it’s something.
I feel a little better now.
Actually I feel great.
I’m going to turn my life around!
I am a queen.
You are a strong, independent woman, and you don’t need no man.
I’m going to be alone for the rest of my life.
I am so sad.
I might self-harm.
No, I shouldn’t self-harm.
But it will make me feel better.
But it will make me feel worse.
1:30 p.m. — I’ve paced the house for 10 minutes talking myself out of this.
Should I message someone?
Nah, they won’t be able to help me.
Where’s a cat?
It’s cool, I’m safe.
I. Can. Do. This.
Ah, mums home. Company.
Lunch time. Why do I live for food?
Should I have some pudding?
No, I’m watching my weight.
Where’s the cake?
Just going to close… my eyes…
Nap hangovers are the worst.
But awesome nap.
You deserved that.
6 p.m. — “Big Bang Theory” re-runs…
I feel so low.
Why is the TV volume so loud?
Turn the fucking volume down.
No, cat, leave me alone.
I am not in the mood.
I feel like punching someone right now.
Am I hungry?
7:30 p.m. — Bath time.
Ah, finally time to relax.
Who am I? Where am I? Why am I?
This is nice.
Good. TV is good.
Aw, look at the cute animal!
I feel good, I am loved, I am safe, I am warm.
I love you, kitty.
Give me a cuddle, kitty.
I’ve had approximately six mood swings in the past two hours.
Come on, wash your face.
Brush your teeth.
Look after yourself.
No it’s not.
Scrolling, scrolling, scrolling
Bed is comfy.
Bed is safe.
My eyes are burning.
Thank goodness for my medication.
Editor’s note: This post is based on one individual’s experience with BPD. Please see a doctor before starting or stopping medication.
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Thinkstock photo by Marjan_Apostolovic