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New because I have a new name!

I’m Nova, a 33yr queer nonbinary dork with transmasc leanings. Still waiting to feel like a grown up but also happy for that to never happen. I recently started HRT so will likely be posting about that somewhat frequently.

I also talk about BPD and mental health in general. Some of my older writing on BPD can be found on the birbsite: twitter.com/haylum/status/1002

Also selfies and dog pictures. Often selfies with dogs. Dogsdogsdogs.

(I really like dogs)

I just accidentally said Asstodon instead of Mastodon and, well, tell me I’m wrong I dare you

Men who tell you they enjoyed your date, ask if you’d like to meet again and then take three weeks and some prompting to tell you that actually they thought about it and didn’t actually feel any connection.

Not the worst thing ever but ouch

selfie, no eye contact 

hrt, lewdish 

hrt, lewdish 

hrt, lewdish 

trans stuff, GIC, request for info 

It’s relationship impermanence and fighting the urge to reach out to remind them of your existence.

It’s realising that when you successfully fight off that urge, you don’t hear from them as often. You’re just not on their mind as much as they’re on yours.

It’s wanting so badly to be ok with that but going through a cycle of feeling abandoned and relief, over and over again.

It’s being unable to hold on to the feeling of being loved and waiting desperately for some proof.

It’s knowing your needs are unreasonable but still feeling resentment over not having them met.

It’s the constant feeling that you’re on your last chance before you fuck up again and they realise how awful you are.

It’s knowing that they’ll never love you as intensely as you love them.

It’s giving another person the power to break you into a million pieces and being unable to stop yourself, and then living in perpetual fear of your impending destruction.

It’s being absolutely convinced you’d be safer not putting yourself in such a vulnerable position but being so utterly terrified of being alone.

It’s giving your entire heart and soul to another person and living in the false hope that they’ll thank you for the beautiful gift and give you theirs in return.

It’s creating an entirely new version of yourself and knowing that that version will die when they inevitably leave you.

It’s knowing that the honeymoon periods lasts a lot longer for you than it does for them, and being sure you can see the excitement of being with you dwindling.

Falling in love is one of the most wonderful things about having BPD. The intensity of it, the excitement, the feeling of having found your way home and knowing that someone has invited you into their life despite all of your many, many flaws.

But falling in love is also one of the most painful things about having BPD.

My mental illness means that I have non-existent self esteem, no sense of who I am and find myself comparing myself negatively to other people all the time. I need to be reminded frequently that I’m important and why.

Right now I feel like nothing because I’ve never made anyone feel the need to create something for or inspired by me.

As if I needed more proof that I’m nothing special.

I realised something earlier that I wish I hadn’t, because now I feel like shit.

I realised that I’ve never inspired creativity in my partners in any of my significant relationships, but in most of them I’ve been told about the time they wrote a song for an ex, the times they wrote entire essays about their feelings, the times they got a tattoo inspired by exes, the time they drew a picture, painted something, wrote a poem, all inspired by a loved one.

sickness, death 

sickness, death 

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