Bobblehead Bunny
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august 25th, 2023

haii..this one is going to be a bit traumadump-y. i hate that word a lot, but i don't know how else to say it. this will probably not be comfortable to read, as a stranger stumbling across this. i like that about this side of the internet; it keeps the anonimity that social media stripped away from us alive. i can say anything, and i'll never know who reads it. i got so excited to see that a few people voted on my poll on my homepage about their favorite toothpaste flavor, or when i saw i had 2 whole comments on my cbox. i think it's so cool that at anytime, anyone could read what i have to say, and i would never even know, other than those small bits of evidence from people who took the time to engage.

anyways, enough rambling. today was okay, i suppose. except for when i broke down in the morning. i had a nightmare that i lived in a motorhome like when i was little, and my brother got murdered. and i was half awake for a lot of it because the neighbors were doing work outside, i thought the noise was someone knocking on my door. it was annoying. i also talked to my ex fp a bit. all i wanted was for her to say sorry. first, when i told her how i felt, she said something like "just cut me off then, since im such a shit influence in your life" but after i reiterated that i just wanted an apology she apologized and said she really did feel bad for traumatizing me so badly. she said the reason she doesnt talk to me is because i reminded her of how bad she could really be. the apology just made me feel worse, i still haven't replied to her most recent message. i don't know what to say to her.

i would kill myself if i weren't too high to feel anything for most of my days, lolol. ever since i was five, i haven't had a peaceful year. my parents lost their house when i was 5 years old and we took a road trip to visit family, but my family frequently would punish me for my autistic traits. internalized self hatred from these punishments and rejections along with other traumatic events around this time led to me developing a personality disorder.

i get scared to say i have bpd publically, because people instantly assume i'm just faking it. although, there wouldn't be anything to gain from faking it on here, where i won't get any attention whatsoever. i doubt anyone will ever even read this. i just like to ramble. i think that what i've described (minus some very specific details) is a universal experience for many autistic people; especially those assigned female at birth, undiagnosed and taught to mask from a very young age. masking is realizing that something is deeply wrong with you, and that you need to cover it up to get by in a world not catered to people like you. you already feel alienated, ashamed, and lost. boys are typically allowed to be roudy and rude when they're little, but girls are expected to be more receptive, empathetic, quiet, and polite. it's one of the reasons we go undiagnosed for so long. this, along with my predisposition to a cluster b personality disorder due to my father and grandmother having the same thing, was the perfect combination to ruin my life forever.

you have to be so careful with young kids, especially those who are developmentally stunted in some way. i try to be as kind and receptive as possible to my little brother, but even as early as 6 he was talking about wanting to die. it's really sad. sometimes i feel like it's my fault because of the times i would be overwhelmed and raise my voice..but i know that this is just in our genes. i give him advice sometimes, and it seems to help. it made me so happy when he told me his intrusive thoughts were more managable after i told him to just let himself have them nonjudgementally. he was so excited to tell me.

i'm so lucky i was at least gifted with the kind of autism that makes me always in my own head. my introspection has kept me alive for the past few years. i started suspecting bpd after my first full-blown psychotic episode, when i was 14. i would go for walks, talking to the ghosts in the trees and telling the invisible cameras in the corners of my room that i knew i could see them, they weren't as sneaky as they thought. although still delusional, i realized something was very wrong. i realized i was spiraling out of control. i had an older friend who told me my symptoms were akin to their bpd ones, and i began looking into it. everything clicked into place. i got my psychiatric recognition a year or two later. this was around the time i met that ex fp i keep talking about. i'll call her "p" from now on. like pee. hahahahahaha. i wrote a few paragraphs about her, but i decided against sharing it. it's still something i don't feel comfortable telling anyone, the things she did make me want to throw up still. thanks for reading my embarrassing little rambles. :3

mreeeoooooowww :3