I just turned 38 yrs old & I've never felt & been so misunderstood. I'm disabled, single, an exquisite cat mom, who is a collector of 'toys', loves writing, yet immature, independently failing, a lost cause capable of great things but motivationally empty, oh, & overweight, ugly, always frustrated, overwhelmed, sick, physically & mentally & emotionally most of the time, & hilarious & loves sarcasm, tries being creative, but empty. Heart beats but hollow. I have BPD & agoraphobia, severe depression, anxiety & adhd. Did I mention so alone that my chest literally feels empty, see inside & search but can't find it. Oh, but I'm whimsy, a music lover, a chronically bad dancer, forgetful, struggling, sober for 13 years. I'm thinking too much, not doing enough, sad, mad, sad when I'm mad & mad when I cry. I cry when I'm furious & yell when I'm in tears. A disappointment & a burden. An introverted gem of some sort, dust without diamond, just another rock. Twisting, turning, half broken, still missing a piece. Terrifying nightmare & nonexistent dreams, both in organized chaos, learning, molding. I'm everything, nothing, & both at the same time in the same moment back, forth.
End.