i figured itās better to reach out than to keep this buried. if you have anythingāresources, insights, adviceāthat could help me, please send it my way. anything that might bring clarity, support, or even the smallest sense of direction would mean a lot.
diagnosed Borderline w/ OCD
July 29th
i havenāt written in quite some time. journaling, once a refuge, became a mirror i no longer wished to faceāeach entry echoing the same obsessions, amplifying them, feeding their rhythm. i lost the spontaneity, the irregular cadence that once made expression feel free. instead, it became a ritual of rumination.
recently, iāve begun making small, deliberate changesāadjustments wherever i feel the pull. iām starting to understand that who i am is an ever-shifting convergence of thought and temperament. my personality isnāt fixed; itās a reflection of my internal weather. tracking my moods has helped illuminate certain patterns, revealing how my triggers unfoldābut pinpointing those triggers remains elusive. the inconsistency, that quiet turbulence within, makes it difficult. thereās always a friction between my need for comfort and my hunger for transformation.
iāve always judged that contradiction in othersāyet here i am, mirroring it. iāve slowly dismantled many of my defenses, not out of strength, but out of exhaustion. in surrendering control, iāve made room for meaning. for once, iām not chasing perfectionāIām chasing something that feels true. psychology is calling to me. it feels like a path that might finally align with the way i think and feel. iām changing schools, moving in with my father for a while. i need distance from this space that has become both a sanctuary and a cell.
my environment dictates so much of my being. thatās how i know: if i can shift the world around me, i can begin to reshape the world within. iām tired of this ache, this heaviness that keeps finding me no matter where i go. thereās still a part of me that longs to disappear into itāto wrap myself in the numbness, to retreat into that dark shell iāve outgrown but never quite left behind.
but i know now that denying my humanity only deepens my suffering. this endless attempt to regulate every thought, every impulseāitās tearing me apart in slow, invisible ways. each obsession is a tiny collapse. i pray for the still moments, the ones where iām not paying for the chaos inside me. i want to take responsibility, i truly do, but none of this feels like something i chose. i didnāt ask for this. i never would have.
nothing so far has brought me the fulfillment i crave. i need to rebuildāto design a life rooted in stability, in truth. but itās hard when i wake up feeling like a different version of myself every day, like iām holding court with a rotating cast of souls, each demanding a different truth.
i hope therapy can help me unburden all of this. i want more than survival. i want peace. i want joy. i want to be loved in a way that doesnāt feel conditional, and i want to love back without the fear that iām incapable of giving what i receive. i want to be able to hold my instability in my hands and say: i am not afraid of you anymore.
but that courage flickers. depending on my mood, my willingness to change rises and falls like a tide. i remain, at my core, a frightened childāhaunted by the same small, inconsequential fears. i donāt know why i want to live, and that unsettles me. i donāt know why i long for connection, and that unsettles me too.
i just want to emerge from this with something real, something that belongs wholly to me. iām tired of being fragmented. iām tired of being stuck in this cycle of becoming and unraveling. i want to belong to myself. i just donāt know what that truly means.
