The Girl With A Broken Mind

Schizoaffective Borderline, my suicidal ideation. *TRIGGER WARNING*

I reached out. I chose the wrong person to reach out to. I hate people telling me I'm responsible for how things turn out and I'm responsible for my life. I didn't ask for this. I didn't ask for this life. How can you push me when I'm down? When I come to you, tell you I'm ready to take my own life. You tell me to fight. Be positive. That I can get through this. How? I can't simply stop my brain from doing what it's doing. I cried, I told him about my new diagnosis. I cried, explained how debilitating it is for me. How can you tell me to push forward when I can't tell reality from delusion anymore? I'm a Schizoaffective Borderline. As much as my borderline wants to be loved, the center of attention. My schizoid is so terrified of people. I've never understood why I have such intense social anxiety around anyone who isn't my immediate family. I've never understood how a borderline can be so opposite of a borderline when it comes to people. How can I be so hypersexual, in need for closeness, chasing away the loneliness with another human, but yet terrified of sex, terrified of simple conversation. When I'm alone I'm craving another humans touch. Craving the feeling of being loved and accepted. I want nothing more than to be loved for who I am. I'm a bubbly, outgoing, seemingly happy person. Between the lines though, I'm sad. I'm  over thinking every single aspect of our conversation, the way I speak, the way I stand. I'm always a sentence behind. Most of the time I have no idea what anyone is saying to me because it sounds like they aren't speaking English to me. It's jumbled and mumbled even though they are speaking perfectly clear. Then I panic because I'm coming off as dense. I am dense I guess. My social anxiety is ruining my life. I'm such a loner, but yet I'm the life of the party. How can this be? It's so much more understandable as to why I don't know who I am. Atleast now I know WHY I am the way I am. Both of these illnesses are lifelong. Both are life altering in themselves. But both? At once? It's hell. Between the dissociating more and more and the delusions I'm suffering, I can't seem to grasp what is real and what isn't. At times it's like there's a break in the simulation and I'm clear headed. That's becoming more rare. I'm slipping into my mind. I'm ready to give into these suicidal thoughts that rampage through my head. I'm getting closer to the end of my book. There aren't many pages left. I'm scared to keep turning them, reaching the end. I know I won't be clear headed when I reach it. It'll happen while I'm in my delusion. It's like I get sucked into the images, they are real. I'm acting them out. I'm not in your world while I'm in mine. I feel everything. It's pulling me. Only I won't know when it's actually happening or if I'm just imagining it. By then it might be too late. Too late to keep fighting. Too late to realize this isn't what I want. It'll be quick though right? Please be quick. Don't let me suffer. Sweep me into your arms and comfort me while I go. Don't let me be full of fear. Oh sweet delusions, be there for me when I need you. Fill my head with wonderful images. My first kiss, my last kiss. Everything wonderful in between. Let me go in a state of euphoria. That's all I ask.