Why are people with borderline personality disorder so capable of ripping someone apart with their words?
Last Updated: 16.06.2025 06:30
Let me correct myself. Not once. Not twice. Maybe, more than a hundred times. It’s embedded in me like deep scar tissue; an imprint from people who were supposed to love me.
The only way I could protect my broken heart was to get meaner than the vipers who broke me. Colder than the hearts who were supposed to care for me. When it hurts I have to pretend to be indifferent. When I’m falling apart I have to fake it until I make it. When I’m disrespected I have to be perfectly fucking stoic or it will be used against me. I have to grey rock people who were meant to be kind to me.
I’m so. Fucking. Sorry.
Because someone once ripped me apart with their words.
I’m so sorry to the people who love me for me. I’m so fucking sorry, because when you gave me a safe space to show my true colors, to be myself, to express myself…you got the angry version of me. The resentful version of me. The hateful version of me. The hurt version of me. The depressed version of me. The worst. Fucking. Version. Of me.