ねぇ〜、

So, it’s been awhile. A lot has happened since i last posted- was detained by police, hospitalized (again), narrowly avoided arrest, relapsed into self-harming, got back into my usual penchant for getting extremely drunk and high, have never felt more alone and hopeless in my entire life, and started having way more extreme moodswings from BPD- so bad they feel like major depressive and manic episodes but only last a few hours- and also watched my somatoform disorder and anxiety worsen to severe levels- to the point of where now i randomly get squeezing chest pains followed by shortness of breath, and a sickly feeling, similar to a bad heart-attack- and it can last for upwards of many hours despite having no medical cause and not even caused by a panic attack, as well as persistent weakness and muscle aches.

But i’m not here to get sympathy or pity, or whatever bullshit, because i realized something else while absent….: I have been a complete and utter fucking fool. Even as far back as May 2023- whether through irresponsible substance use, impulsive actions, unspeakable things, my words and actions to others, reckless behaviour and disregard- whatever it may be, i have been a total fucking retard, and i am deeply sorry. I’m sorry to anyone close to me or even just who i interacted with that suffered from me- whether i hurt you, emotionally abused you, turned you against me, betrayed your trust- whatever it may be, i can’t change the past- but i can tell you i regret it every goddamned night.

I have acted in so many ways that are completely fucking alien of who i’d want to be perceived as, or even who i want to be. I have been so completely reckless with my actions that i’ve turned even close friends against me, made enemies of the people i love, hurt those i care to protect- god the list goes on and on. People have such a fucking warped perspective of me now there’s not even anything comical about it- even in real life. My local police department and even the fucking feds think i’m a sadistic sociopath who doesn’t give a shit about anyone, including herself. All my friends think i’m fucked in the head and keep slowly cutting off contact from me. No, in reality i’m an incredibly confused, hurt, and broken fragmented mess of a person, with an incoherent and polychotomous personality that reflects nothing about how i actually feel inside. Every part of me (whether from myself or others) is a blurry and abstract disaster trying to make up a shattered sense of selfhood. I have such a fucking not-so-”comically” large list of mental illnesses, neurological disorders, and problems, it’s honestly pathetic.

But no, that’s not a fucking excuse- i’m tired of running from my actions, of putting the blame on something else. It doesn’t matter that it’s a giganto-fucking mixture of life experiences, genetics, dysfunctional neurotransmitters, structural problems, and whatever-the-hell-else that leads me to act this way- because i can fucking do better. All i want and have been trying to do the time i’ve been away is improve myself and right past-wrongs; i took a big long look in the mirror and realized that i don’t like what i see- internally and externally, figuratively and literally. I’m done with the life i created, the path i started going down, i’m done with it all- i’m fucking starting over, i’m going back to where this all started and i’m severing my ties from the cancerous growth i formed.

I started seeing a neuropsychologist to help me with my issues, the best i could find in my area,  i’ve spent hours researching methods and approaches to fixing myself, i’ve also started taking a hollistic and alternative path to self-help, a spiritually-grounded journey to better my soul, i stopped taking and threw out all my pharmaceutical prescription medications- my antipsychotics/mood-stabilisers, my alpha-adrenergic/non-stimulant medication, my antidepressants/anxiolytics- and i’m done with ever touching them or anything like them again- i don’t need pills to try and correct something pills won’t fucking correct. (The only medication i still use is my HRT and asthma inhaler, for obvious reasons.)

I can’t undo or fix what i’ve already broken- but i can make a damn-good job to insure that i never break anything again, both in my personal life and online life. Learning to control my impulses, quitting the morally-reprehensible shit, focusing on how my actions impact others, being a better big sister to my little sisters; and daughter to my parents, nurturing my empathetic side, following my dreams, being more responsible with substance usage, treating my partners or future-partners better, treating my friends or acquaintances better, being more self-compassionate, stopping being so goddamn cruel to people, staying (mostly) out of trouble, and so much more- *THAT* is what i wish to try and accomplish.

I’ll still be the same dumb irresponsible teenager i’ve always been- it’s literally in my DNA; but it doesn’t have to- and won’t- define me. I’ll still be probably arrogant, reckless, and slightly antisocial/narcissistic, it’s in my nature- but not near to the same extent. I know i’ll fail a lot- and some days i’ll probably give up only to go back to progress the next day- that’s just how i am, my perceptions of things constantly shift, i constantly split on my actions or thoughts and how i feel about them, my identity constantly shifts and i find myself feeling a completely different way for a time than how i originally did- that’s just how i am. But i’m sure, one day- at least *ONE* day, maybe even after years- i’ll have made some amount of progress, on the bumpy and chaotic rollercoaster that is my current life, that *is* life itself.

I don’t want pity or sympathy- i don’t deserve it. Hell, i don’t even care for forgiveness, all i want is understanding and compassion as i try and improve myself, a second-chance to do and be better. No matter what-the-fuck my past history of actions says- it doesn’t matter, it won’t define me anymore. No matter what-the-fuck my lengthy psychiatric record says- it doesn’t matter: This shit won’t ruin or interfere with my life anymore. It’s not an excuse- at most an explanation. and a shitty one at that. I can.. and will.. do better, i know it.

Until we speak again, i’m sorry if i let you down- i’ll do better, i promise.

Falou! Hasta! またね！Cześć! Salut!

~a regretful girl-thing named Stella/Stel