Loneliness

I'm in the backseat of my own life
Someone else is driving
Down a street that don't feel like mine
Windows up so high, I can't breathe

You can hold me, say it's all right
I'll be lonely at the same time
Wide awake but stuck inside a dream
Is it only me or do you

Ever feel like you've had enough?
Screaming at the top of your lungs
These days, it's so dark and I can't get my head right
Mind is spinning out of control
Running, but there's nowhere to go
These days, it's so dark that I can't see with headlights

I don't know how I'm still surviving
In the clouds so high
It almost feels like I'm flying without a pilot
Paralyzed, but I'm still hеre trying

You can hold me, say it's all right
I'll be lonеly at the same time
Wide awake but stuck inside a dream
Is it only me or do you

Ever feel like you've had enough?
Screaming at the top of your lungs
These days, it's so dark and I can't get my head right
Mind is spinning out of control
Running, but there's nowhere to go
These days, it's so dark that I can't see with headlights

Oh-oh, oh, oh
Oh-oh, oh, oh-oh-oh
Oh-oh, oh, oh
Oh-oh, oh, oh-oh-oh

You can hold me, say it's all right
I'll be lonely at the same time
Wide awake but stuck inside a dream
Is it only me or-

The backseat of my own life
Someone else is driving
Ever feel like you've had enough?
Screaming at the top of your lungs
These days, it's so dark and I can't get my head right
Mind is spinning out of control
Running, but there's nowhere to go
These days, it's so dark that I can't see with headlights

#MentalHealth #Depression #MajorDepressiveDisorder #PTSD #CPTSD #SocialAnxiety #SuicidalThoughts #SuicidalIdeation

Lately, I’ve been feeling really alone. And it’s not just the kind of loneliness that comes from being by yourself—it’s the kind that happens inside my own head. I’ve been disconnected from the people I love, second-guessing every conversation, and replaying interactions on repeat. When this happens, and my thoughts get stuck, they start spiraling fast.

A short text from a friend all of a sudden becomes proof that something is wrong. A missed call feels like a sign that I’m unwanted. Silence expands into rejection. My brain takes a tiny seed of doubt and grows into a whole forest of “what ifs” and “they must not like me.” And once that story gets loud enough in my mind, it doesn’t matter how unrealistic it sounds—I believe it.

This happened recently with a close friend who lives out of state. We don’t talk as often anymore, except when one of us is back in town. I reached out the other day, and replies seemed short—just a “yeah” or “ok” here and there—though text can always be rather tricky to read. Still, I convinced myself it meant we were drifting apart. I created an entire story in my head: she was upset with me, she didn’t care about me anymore, maybe she didn’t even like me at all. I started going through the past, picking apart every little detail to find proof that she didn’t. And then, on top of all that, I felt ashamed for even thinking that way.

Other times, it’s little things—like sending a photo or a funny meme and getting no response for hours, if at all. My mind immediately jumps to worst-case-scenarios: Did I say something wrong? “Maybe they’re annoyed with me?” “Maybe they don’t like as much anymore.” Even when I know that’s highly unlikely, the feeling is so real it’s incredibly difficult to shake.

It’s this cycle that I get caught in: overthinking → self-doubt → shame → isolation. And it’s exhausting.

Sometimes it feels like my brain is working against me. I know logically that a short reply or a missed call doesn’t mean the end of a friendship. I know that people get busy, distracted, or tired. But knowing it doesn’t always make the feeling go away.

I’ve realized that this spiral ties into FOMO and RSD. Every pause in communication can feel like proof that I don’t belong, that people are moving on without me, or that I’ve done something wrong. Even when I know deep down it’s not true, my mind always convinces me otherwise.

Some days, it feels like I’m trapped inside my own thoughts, but then I remember that even if my mind is convincing, it’s still just my mind. Nothing harmful has actually been done. It’s rather preposterous to take an idea and run with it, but it’s just a part of who I am, and I’m learning to navigate it as best I can. And somewhere in the mess of overthinking, shame, and doubt, I’m still me. The me who laughs at silly memes, who texts friends even when it feels scary, who keeps trying even when the spiral wins.

“Overthinking leads to paralysis. Over-feeling leads to isolation. Sometimes the bravest thing you can do is simply let things be.”-Unknown

#MentalHealth #Neurodiversity #SelfDoubt #emotional #ADHD #RSD #AutismSpectrum

I discovered a label in the margins of a chart and watched gravity shift. Arguments began reading as “affect.” Risk assessments read as “instability.” Safety calls arrived preloaded with suspicion. The file learned a new word; the room learned a new posture.

Here is the claim: the BPD label often operates as an administrative alias for trauma. First, testimony loses credit. Then isolation sets in. Protest finally appears as “symptom.” Philosophers call the first move epistemic injustice and the aftermath ethical loneliness. Clinicians call the visible residue “borderline.” The engine underneath runs on trauma physiology, attachment disruption, and the long tail of disbelief.

Checklists describe; histories explain. The DSM clusters collapse neatly into trauma signatures:

Affect storms track hypervigilance and arousal cycles; anger acts as perimeter when safety feels provisional.

Relational whiplash follows nervous systems trained to anticipate loss; closeness alarms, distance invites pursuit.

Self-state wobble and dissociation reflect survival’s constant self-editing under threat.

Short-horizon choices (branded “impulsivity”) often function as rational relief under scarcity and uncertainty.

This trajectory has a public health shape: credibility discounts → isolation → protest behaviours that read as essence. The behaviours look dramatic; the mechanism reads simple. Harm without uptake teaches escalation. People intensify when unheard, conserve when ignored, and scan when help proves conditional.

Care systems stabilize categories across sites—intake, unit, record—because categories move paperwork. Labels travel fast; justice travels truer. Precision in formulation matters because it governs what gets treated: character or injury.

Choose a different architecture:

Lead with trauma-grounded, function-based formulations (PTSD/CPTSD where it fits).

Practice epistemic justice out loud: name uptake, audit disbelief.

Build plans that reduce arousal, widen windows of tolerance, and keep police out of care loops.

Chart triggers, functions, and levers; retire global character verdicts.

read the original blog post where i go into the details of this theory here ----> Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD): A Fake Disease They M... #BPD #BorderlinePersonalityDisorderBPD #Trauma

I want to address mental health in a different way, for what it really is: dark, lonely, and daunting. My hope is that this helps others put words to their emotions and to nurture their wounds
with understanding and compassion for themselves. I hope it unveils the silence for those desperately trying to find some light in the darkness they live.
Your comfort zone is a coping mechanism used when we experience intense emotions. It's a place to feel safe even though it's harmful. Not everyone understands that, that's why we need to push ourselves forward, through the dirt and debris. Pushing past the fear and loneliness. As reality kicks in; it won’t be a walk in the park; but don't let your fear take away from your potential life; It's much brighter on the other side.

riseaboveyournormblog.wordpress.com

#MentalHealth