There are days when I feel embarrassed to be me. Maybe embarrassed isn’t the right word, I don’t know what word fits. I feel sad to be me? Maybe not that either.
I rely on a handful of medication to help me function as a “normal” person, maybe normal is a bit of a stretch, more like to help me function enough to appear like I fit in. Why? Because I have a personality disorder. I’m litterally a flawed individual. I’m a genetic misfit to the point that despite having a perfectly healthy kid (apparently I have a lot of luck) they still don’t want my eggs because I might produce a child like me. I might produce a child who doesn’t fit in properly or is prone to depression. So no one wants my genetics. Which is sad and hurtful, am I not a person to? Am I such a burden that someone wouldn’t want a kid like me? I think I’m pretty awesome, I have a lot of issues yeah and I deal with a lot on a daily basis but I’m still human, I still feel things. Actually that right there is my problem. I feel too much. Thats kinda the short version of borderline personality disorder; I lack the chemicals that control emotions. I over feel things and become overwhelmed quickly.
I shouldn’t let it bother me but it actually does. There are SO many people out there who want kids but if you’re so desperate for a child then why are you so fussy? Sarah over there’s eggs might carry an extra chomosome but you’ll take hers. Why is there such a huge stigma on mental health? I don’t understand it. I really don’t. I just want to feel like I fit in, that all this fight is worth it, like I don’t have to pretend to be someone I’m not just so I’m liked.
I don’t really do that anymore really, pretend to fit in. I now embrace my awkwardness, my quirks and oddities but I posted a photo that Lauren took at Fysh’s party of my mom, sister, brother and I where we’re all laughing and someone asked what we were laughing at cause it looked so funny and you know what? I have no idea. I didn’t hear the joke or whatever, I just didn’t want to seem like the odd one out cause my mom wanted a nice family photo. So I laughed at nothing to fit in. How sad is that.
Ever feel like you weren’t meant to be on this planet? Like you’re supposed to be somewhere else, meant for something else, something more. Sometimes I feel like I’m stuck inside a house above the streets and watching people go by, those people being life and the house being borderline personality disorder.
There’s no point or sense to this, very contradicting I know. Just feelings and words in my head at 5 in the morning.