BPD

Read at your own risk

I am the eldest child and at the same time am the youngest child. Yes I am your only daughter. The one you’ve been rearing for 21 years and a day now. I am the reason why we have this thing called family. My existence 21 years ago is what made us a family. I probably made you smile, laugh, happy or even joyful. And lately I’ve been causing you pain, confusion, sadness, etc. I wasn’t a headache then, I know that. I was a good girl. But then there came issues – issues I can’t deal with by myself.

 

I’m supposed to be a graduating student by now.

I’m not that good.

I am not smart.

I am so weak.

I lack drive and motivation.

I feel purposeless.

 

 

One thing never change since then until now – that I am always thankful that you are my parents. God knew what I would be like, so maybe he chose you to be my parents.

Remember mum and dad how much I strived every school year to be on top of the honor roll. I did that for you. Like, ever since I came to understand that if I got the first place, I get free tuition fee the next school year. Oh how I’d love achieving that, knowing that would make you happy. I kind of never regret that. I enjoyed those years. Haha everyone thinks I’m smart. Lol. But in the real world, no one asks what your awards are during elementary years. No one hires anyone because of premature achievements like that.

Remember mum how I always remind you of answering the ‘parents/guardian corner’ in our book. I always thought that it was just a simple homework for the teacher to check. One day, I was browsing those books. I’ve read in there that you wrote that I was an appreciative child and a lot of other positive things about me. Maybe those aren’t all true, but somehow, it’s a relieving thing to read in days like these – days I don’t know how to get over with.

 

Remember dad how you loved the little girl who says, ‘ako nga, ako nga’ when you’re dealing with your tools and stuff.

 

Remember dad the nights when I couldn’t sleep and am hardly breathing, I would ask you to rub my back until I fall asleep.

 

Remember mum how I cried and confided to you for the first time after years of being apart.  I cried beside you, as we’re about to sleep and the lights are off, because of a boy I liked. I treasured the intimate moment. I can still remember the sound of my teardrop that fell on a pillow.

 

I’m having a hard time, really. Lately. I don’t know what is happening. I really thought I should go and see a mental health professional. I don’t know. I am depressed.

 

I don’t understand why one second I am so full of joy, so optimistic like nothing can ever ruin my day, so full of energy and then one second I am so sad, so pessimistic and so drained. My mood changes so rapidly. One time I love everything around me, next time, I hate everything around.

 

I know how to stay positive. I talk sensible things. I lead a small group. And they thought I am fine. I am great. I’m good at speaking. Barely do they know, I suck at following my talk. I look so fine on the outside but I’m crushing inside.

 

I think this is not a matter of faith, of religion, of what I believe in. Not that I belittle the power of God. Never. But my point is, what if I really am sick. What if I really have disorders? Prayer works. But then, what if I really need a physician. That’s what they’re here for anyway, right? It’s not about do this and do that, continue doing this doing that. Signs are there. It keeps on recurring. It goes again and again. It is tiring. Done this, done that. Distracted again. Discipline? Yes I lack that. Quarter life crisis? I don’t know. Depressed? Yes. Anxious? Maybe. Honestly, I kind of don’t know what I am saying.

 

I’m just depressed that I won’t be graduating this year. That I can’t do 3d modelling – 3ds max, autocad 3d, sketchup, name it all. I suck. I can’t stay awake late at night. I sleep whenever I want to. I suck at manual drawings. I’m not good enough. Yet I do not want to quit. I suck at time management. I’m dropping a subject. Why? Because I’m helping mum. Should that really be a reason? IDK. Mum’s got a dream for me. Dad’s got a dream for me. So, do I have a dream for myself? I do. But how could I help mum at work while helping myself. I’m not good at multitasking. When the whole world believes in me, I get too overwhelmed, when no one believes, I get depressed. Speaking of which. Mum, dad, do you still believe in me? Cause I’m starting to doubt myself.

 

Did God really planned my life? not that I am doubting it. I am just confused. When I was formed in the womb, yes He planned me. Did he include that I will become an architect? I don’t understand. I wanted to be one. Or he just gave me talents and abilities and the choice is up to me. He laid the choices, now choosing is up to me. It confuses the shoot out of me. Idk idk idk.

 

Why am I crying? Why am I going through all of this? Maybe all of us just have to go through this kind of stuff, it’s just on different levels based on our capabilities. Idk.

 

I can’t go on yet I will go on.

Fight.

 

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