u/Kaen_Ko

Please read EVERYTHING before reaching out.

Please state your age and where you are from if you want to try and chat with me :>
Due to time zones I prefer people in NA or Europe, and I generally prefer people around my ages (18-22).
If it’s okay, I’d like people who respond quite fast. You don’t have to respond immediately, because I’m busy too sometimes, so just let me know when you are.
Also, I’d like a long term friendship.

Well, I’ve been through a lot this year. I’ve kept in secret for years the abuse I went through when I was young, and recently it all flooded. I was depressed, and then manic and then depressed again and it is a cycle that never ends. Yes, I’m bipolar (type I).
During the recent big depression episode, I’ve tried to off myself (OD 100 pills).
I went to a psych ward afterwards, and have been in inpatient care for 3 months. Two months after getting released, I’ve had a manic episode which I’m still in the middle of, but now I take meds so I’m somewhat better.

I really like baking and cooking, painting, going on walks, reading and writing and listening to music (mostly rock though).
Oh and yea I’ve just started working like two weeks ago.

Please reach out if you’re comfortable with all of that, and if you think we’d hit it off :>

Has anyone shared their trauma and experience and couldn’t stop shaking and trembling afterwards?

Has anyone thought about what they’ve gone through and just wished they were dead?

Has anyone thought or did hurt themselves just at the thought of what they had to endure?

Has anyone didn’t tell a single person of what they’ve gone through, or told it a long time after?

Has anyone wanted to experience that again, even as they felt awful during it?

Has anyone ever felt guilty for things they didn’t do, and they know it’s not logical to think this way but they still do?

Has anyone… please share yours, and let others have a peace of mind, knowing that they’re not alone and that there are others who feel this way.

I’ve been diagnosed with bipolar I and have been dealing with it for a while now.

I’ve had a serious depressive episode that included a big suicide attempt, immediately followed by a manic state in which I was like, completely unable to do anything.

And now… well I’m a lot better. I got accepted for a job that I have started to work in a few days ago, and I’m functioning and actually good at it and enjoying it.

I went from the worst time of my life to the best, even though I have to say that if you’d tell me this a month ago I would’ve laughed at you.

Don’t get me wrong, I still deal with a lot of shit even now. But I have to say that it does get better. I mean, I know how it sounds. When I was at my lowest I wouldn’t have listened to ppl who’d say it gets better, but now that I’ve actually experienced it, I can tell you it’s true, and it’s possible.

So please, don’t give up! I believe in all of you and I know you all can do it and achieve whatever you want. It will take time, it will be super hard and exhausting and might seem impossible, but I believe it can happen. Things do get better even if it doesn’t seem like it, even if it takes what can seem like infinity.

The spider told me what he said. I couldn’t hear it through the blurs. “Inject her again, three times,” the spider translated to me. The nurse shook her head. Her eyes turned blue, real blue. Blue I didn’t have anymore.
She was afraid. That meant she was good. That meant she didn’t want me hurt.
I wanted her to kill me, so I could rest beside her.

She begged him. She said “seven today already” and “she’ll collapse” and “she won’t survive.”
But he didn’t answer her. He looked at me like I was a tool he hadn’t finished breaking. Like he was disappointed I was dull.

Monster, I thought. I didn’t say it. I never say anything anymore. He said “kill her for disobeying me.” That word. Kill. He says it like others say “please.” Like others say “love.”

The spider purred. He wrapped his legs around me and whispered in that voice that sounds like my mom choking on glass: “Do it. If you’re a good monster.”

I am a good monster.

The nurse moved. She ran to the door. Please let someone open it for her. Please let someone save her before I do it again. Before \*she\* comes and sees me like this. Before \*she\* sees what’s left.

She turned. Her face blurred. Her hands picked up the syringe and she stabbed herself in the arms. Over and over and over. Syrup began to bloom. It looked like jam on toast. Then more. She dragged the needle across her thighs, her wrists, her belly. Screaming. Blue water and red syrup mixed. It made purple. Purple is death. Purple is me.

The spider clapped. He wanted more. So I wanted more.

She clawed at her skin, nails ripping everything. She sobbed and begged, but he said “shut up” and “traitor” and “you will die for this.” His voice made everything silent again. Her screams disappeared. I couldn’t hear her anymore. I couldn’t hear myself.

She ripped out her own eyes. Syrup gushed like fountains. She screamed, I think, but it was far away. The spider was wrapping around me tighter. I felt him in my throat, my lungs, my chest. I felt nothing else. Only him. Only death.

I didn’t move. I didn’t breathe. I was dead. Only my body didn’t know it yet.

She stabbed herself in the throat. She gagged on her syrup. He was happy. The spider whispered: “Good monster.”

I wanted to be her. I wanted to be the one choking.

Do I have anxiety because I tend to overthink? But then again, why do I overthink?

It all comes back to what happened in my childhood. The years of abuse. The years I have learned to stay and keep quiet. Make myself small. Survive.

How I have convinced myself I’m the worst person alive. That everyone wants to hurt me. The constate worry and hyper vigilance.

What even causes anxiety? Can it come from nothing, or does it always have some reason?

After years of struggling with my mental health, I’ve finally find someone.
I’ve been hurting myself, trying to off myself, having depressive and manic episodes, both with psychotic symptoms, all of that while also suffering from bpd.

After the abuse I went through for years when I was young, I found a guy who understood me, who didn’t blame me, who wanted me as I was. He said he loved me, he said he wants to be with me forever and that he’ll love me forever.

He was with me during my breakdowns. When I tried to take dozens of pills, when I thought he hated me and didn’t care about me, and I was too needy because of my abandonment issues.

I was so toxic, and I loved him so much I would have done anything for him. But I couldn’t deal with my illnesses and he ended up saying I was too much for him. And I did this, I pushed it and made him suffer while he was depressed and hurting himself as well.

I wanted to help him, to be there for him, and I was. But maybe I wasn’t enough for him, or maybe I was too much for him to handle. I always said he didn’t want me, that’ll he dump me, and I couldn’t control what came out of me. And he suffered until he was done.

It lasted for only 3 months, but it was so intense for me.

I wish I could fix this. Not even in the sense of being a couple again. In the sense that he should have never suffered in the first place.

He ended up breaking up with me a day before my birthday. I basically begged him to stay but it didn’t help, bc he was suffering with me. Then on my birthday wanted to get back together and I agreed, and then because of his depression he ghosted me for a month.

Now we’re kind of talking, but I think that he doesn’t even like anymore.

Also, I am getting psychiatric and psychological help, and I’m better.

(TL;DR): I’m bipolar and have BPD and think I’ve been toxic with my ex and ruined our relationship, but now we’re talking again. What do you think I should do?

After years of struggling with my mental health, I’ve finally find someone.
I’ve been hurting myself, trying to off myself, having depressive and manic episodes, both with psychotic symptoms, all of that while also suffering from bpd.

After the abuse I went through for years when I was young, I found a guy who understood me, who didn’t blame me, who wanted me as I was. He said he loved me, he said he wants to be with me forever and that he’ll love me forever.

He was with me during my breakdowns. When I tried to take dozens of pills, when I thought he hated me and didn’t care about me, and I was too needy because of my abandonment issues.

I was so toxic, and I loved him so much I would have done anything for him. But I couldn’t deal with my illnesses and he ended up saying I was too much for him. And I did this, I pushed it and made him suffer while he was depressed and hurting himself as well.

I wanted to help him, to be there for him, and I was. But maybe I wasn’t enough for him, or maybe I was too much for him to handle. I always said he didn’t want me, that’ll he dump me, and I couldn’t control what came out of me. And he suffered until he was done.

It lasted for only 3 months, but it was so intense for me.

I wish I could fix this. Not even in the sense of being a couple again. In the sense that he should have never suffered in the first place.

He ended up breaking up with me a day before my birthday. I basically begged him to stay but it didn’t help, bc he was suffering with me. Then on my birthday wanted to get back together and I agreed, and then because of his depression he ghosted me for a month.

Now we’re kind of talking, but I think that he doesn’t even like anymore.

After years of struggling with my mental health, I’ve finally find someone.
I’ve been hurting myself, trying to off myself, having depressive and manic episodes, both with psychotic symptoms, all of that while also suffering from bpd.

After the abuse I went through for years when I was young, I found a guy who understood me, who didn’t blame me, who wanted me as I was. He said he loved me, he said he wants to be with me forever and that he’ll love me forever.

He was with me during my breakdowns. When I tried to take dozens of pills, when I thought he hated me and didn’t care about me, and I was too needy because of my abandonment issues.

I was so toxic, and I loved him so much I would have done anything for him. But I couldn’t deal with my illnesses and he ended up saying I was too much for him. And I did this, I pushed it and made him suffer while he was depressed and hurting himself as well.

I wanted to help him, to be there for him, and I was. But maybe I wasn’t enough for him, or maybe I was too much for him to handle. I always said he didn’t want me, that’ll he dump me, and I couldn’t control what came out of me. And he suffered until he was done.

I wish I could fix this. Not even in the sense of being a couple again. In the sense that he should have never suffered in the first place.

He ended up breaking up with me a day before my birthday. I basically begged him to stay but it didn’t help, bc he was suffering with me. Then on my birthday wanted to get back together and I agreed, and then because of his depression he ghosted me for a month.

Now we’re kind of talking, but I know that he doesn’t even like anymore.