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Dear future me, I have questions...

Updated: Apr 7, 2021

Too relaxed to read? Listen to the podcast episode here: https://open.spotify.com/episode/3jKpxvuowmvwMD333hXQit


I had a mental breakdown. I was crying and crying. I thought my tears would never stop and the pain would never go away.

I remember I cried so hard that I felt entirely dead inside when I stopped eventually.

And while I was staring at the ceiling, filled with this feeling of cold numbness I wondered:


Will it ever be okay?

Will the demons of my past ever stop hurting?

Will I ever gonna be able to move on?


Because even though I keep progressing and developing, fighting and fighting, even though I have dreams and ambitions and goals it all just seems entirely meaningless when the curtain of my past drops and me within.

Hope becomes a sour taste. Future makes me chuckle bitterly. Dreams? What dreams? What future?

Why even bother trying?

Everything becomes an ocean of hopelessness.


I have a very funny memory.

It filters out most of the good things from my past, memorizes them in a negative way, or emphasizes all the dark parts.

When my best friend reminds me of all our “happy stories” my manipulative memory seems blank and empty.

However, when it comes to moments of pain I can still picture them like it was yesterday.


Let me take you through a story that contains one of those moments full of pain, self-pitying, and victimizing.


And indeed I remember it perfectly well.




I was full of anger and sadness. My anger was raging against everyone in front of me and screaming at every inch inside of me. Every person I looked at seemed like an evil enemy, everything inside me was aching for self-destruction.

I was crying and yelling. I remembered that I had an argument with my boyfriend. I was so mad at him that I called him the worst names and within every word I said and every action I made against him, I fed myself self-loathing more and more.

I didn’t know whom I hated more him or myself.

The hate was pushing the adrenaline through my veins.


One of the major problems when it comes to Borderline personality disorder is that one little “wrong” action can make you explode. And make you believe that the people you love and care about the most like your family or your partner have turned against you and want to harm you, maybe even hate you.

Paranoia.

On the worst days, I would even believe that they wanted my death, wanted to see me committing suicide and no words could change that belief.


This was one of these days.


I remember locking myself inside my room when my boyfriend broke inside by climbing through the window. When I saw him he was the hero and the villain at the same time. I hated him, but I needed him.

I wanted him to save me but I made myself believe that he was the reason I needed to be saved.


Hate is a strong word but unfortunately when it comes to Borderline is so deeply anchored. That’s why one of the most known phrases about Borderline personality disorder are “I hate you, I love you.” and “I hate you, don’t leave me.”

And I hated him. He was the outer projection of everything bad I was feeling from the inside.

Every fear, every flaw, every flame.

I remembered yelling at him. I couldn’t control my anger and I didn’t know what I could be capable of. It scared the hell out of me.

I was also crying, drowning between self-pity and blame.

Victimizing myself. “I am the victim you are the assailant.”

“It’s is your fault I am feeling like this”

Fault. Such a dangerous word.

He came all the way in the middle of the night “to save me” and there I was seeing him as one of the evilest kinds in the world.

So I tried to escape, escape from my own feelings and his.

I somehow managed to get out of the room even though he tried to grab me, and ran to the bathroom. I locked the door behind me, shut my ears, and started screaming. There were so many voices in my head all talking me down. All telling me that I was wrong. I just had to scream against them. Hysterically, I looked everywhere for my razors, self harm seemed like the only way to deal with the situation.

It was like a movie scene, just that it wasn’t a movie scene.


My boyfriend was knocking at the door saying that he would break the door if I wouldn't open it.

My Mum came to the door as well she was panicking and crying but also angry.

Borderline Mum.

I could hear my sister arriving too.


They were trying to help but I saw them all as enemies. I thought they hated me as much as I hated myself. I thought they wished my death as much as the voices in my head.


I started cutting myself. I never cut deeply because even though I was extremely suicidal I was kinda scared of dying at the same time. Makes no sense, right? I know.


Nothing makes sense in that state.

Then I ran to the window. I opened it and started to climb out ready to jump, anytime.

I was wearing a long t-shirt that just went over my hips. My legs wear shaking when I was standing in the window frame. The wind blew against them as if it was demanding my legs to give in.



There was this loud voice in my head screaming at me “ DO IT! DO IT! DON’t BE A WIMP. DO IT! DON’T MAKE THEM BELIEVE YOU’RE JUST ACTING. “

But how could all of this be “just acting”?

“YOU DESERVE THIS. YOU ARE NOTHING. DO IT.”

But I could also feel a very thin voice reaching out for help being locked away in a very dark place.

Begging everyone else to stop.


Eventually, they managed to open the door.

My Mama was the first to enter.

When she saw me at the window she started crying heavily. I remember how happy I felt for a second when I realized that she might actually care about my life. My boyfriend grabbed my numb motionless body carefully from the window and took me upstairs.

Back in my room again I was crying again, or howling, or screaming. I was crying so much and so loudly that I thought the pain would actually kill me. A pain that seemed to be so deeply anchored that it might never go away.

My boyfriend didn’t judge me. He just sat next to me patiently.

I felt like the worst girlfriend in the world.


A few minutes or hours later my Mum came stomping up the stairs and started yelling at me. Telling me how was the most selfish person in the and that there were also other people in this world who were trying to get some peace. “ The world is not only circling around you “ “You are not the center of the universe” “Get your shit together and stop crying”

(Well, I don’t actually know about the last quote, to be honest, but it is definitely something she would say.)

I was already devastated. I was already so in pain.

But these words...

They crushed me entirely.

If I thought it couldn’t get any worse, it could.





I was calling out red flags. Desperately trying to communicate my suicidal thoughts. But this is where people get very controversial feelings, because they don’t know how to deal with people that are suicidal. They don’t know whether they should take suicide thoughts seriously or see them as a “threat to get what you want”. And even if they are trying to take them seriously they are so overwhelmed that they accidentally say or do things that just make everything worse. It is very difficult for someone from the outside to deescalate the situation as the person in need is extremely hypersensitive. Today, I believe that no matter what you do the person in need will always try to put it against themselves and therefore I think when it comes to suicide attempts it is always the best solution to call professional help or take the person to a psychiatric hospital.

Borderliners are claimed as very manipulative people. Therefore, when they talk about suicidal thoughts or attempts people feel threatened or manipulated. Until this very day, I still believe that I never intended to manipulate anyone's actions within my suicide thoughts.

I was scared. Scared of myself, begging for help from the outside. Because when the darkness kicked in there was almost no hope. I felt like something foreign was inside of me, was controlling me, pushing me, killing me…inside out.

It felt like I was controlled by a dark evil demon that would say and do things that would hurt myself and everyone around me, things I would always regret once I would “come back to my ‘real-self.”

Nevertheless, deep down inside of me behind the anger and the self-harm, there was a little girl that was full of pain and all she wanted was help, support, and love. - My inner child.


I wanted to change, I wanted to become “normal” or at least okay.

That’s why I tried to open up and talked about my suicidal thoughts. I wanted someone to see me and my pain, to “save me”.


At this time I couldn’t understand that the only person who could save me was myself because I was stuck in a dark mindset that relied on everyone else but me and that’s why I always felt like everyone was letting me down all the time and I couldn't actually see that most of the people around me were actually trying to help.


“No one could help me until I choose to help myself.”


The vision you have of yourself is as dark as the vision of the people that care about you because you hate yourself so much that you simply cannot believe that anyone else cares.

I always questioned if “Borderliners” were actually capable to really love someone as I couldn't understand how I could turn from love to hate to massive sadness to icy coldness and carelessness in only a few minutes towards the people I cared for the most.


I mean how could you do that to a loved one? Maybe because you didn’t actually know what love is?

This evil circle made me hate myself so much.

I felt like I would destroy anyone that would care about me, every relationship, every friendship, and every part of myself.

I mean how are you supposed to care about anyone when you never learned how to care about yourself? It was a very dark phase in my life and I could maintain almost no friendships or relationships “everyone would always leave.”





10/12/2017

Dear future me,

Sometimes my life just feels like a glass that has been thrown on the floor so many times that there are millions and billions of pieces lying there dead and still.

And every time I try to fix the bits and pieces again I cut myself so deeply that instead of fixing my glass I just start to bleed, and this bleeding wound hurts so badly and remains as a dark scar right there on my arm.

Where everyone can see it, but looks away.

Where I remember it every day.

And that's the reason why I wonder every day:

Will I ever be okay?

Will it ever stop?”

Today

It will baby girl. It will.


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Let me know your thoughts in the comment section or slide into my IG dms if you have any questions.


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