A letter to my past self... 8 years ago
#LoveYourself #fyp #life #bpd #story
I wake up and start writing. I set up schedules for my socials after finally getting them back a few months ago. Honestly, Facebook, Instagram, and the rest of it all feel dull. I like them because, for a little while, I don’t have to think about my own problems. But when I put my phone down, they’re all still there.
The one thing I really enjoy anymore is spending time with my dog. Having so much free time means I get to decide what I’m doing every day. Most people don’t have that privilege anymore.
I even picked up TIG welding just so I’d know how to weld my own exhaust back together.
Life gets boring when you’re not constantly busy. You have too much time to think.
I’m glad I’ve gotten to see life through other people’s eyes. Sometimes it feels like I’ve lived a hundred different lives. Funny thing is, I’ve only been on this earth for twenty-five years, and only seven of those I’ve spent trying to figure out how to be an adult.
The problem has always been the same.
I let my past hold me down.
Because in the back of my head, I know I wish I’d done things differently. Said something different. Made different choices.
Every day people change. They learn. They grow. They come up with ideas no one else has thought of.
I’ve talked to so many people and heard so many stories. I can feel for almost anyone.
But I still don’t know how to love someone else.
Every time I catch myself in a mirror, I look away.
Every picture of myself, I skip past.
I think I know why.
Maybe it’s guilt.
Maybe it’s shame.
Maybe it’s knowing I let go of the one thing that mattered most to me.
People say time eases pain.
Maybe.
I think love is pain, too.
Not because love is bad.
Because when it’s real, losing it hurts more than anything.
Loving someone isn’t easy.
I tell myself I’m weak.
I can bust my ass at work. I’ve had people stare at me because I pulled a semi-truck tire by myself looking like I weigh nothing.
Physically, I’ve never been afraid of hard work.
Emotionally…
That’s a different story.
I’m angry more than anything now.
Mostly at myself.
Because I let something I thought was perfect slip away.
I did that.
Nobody else.
I still want to become someone she’d be proud of.
Logically, I know I may never know if I did.
That doesn’t stop me from trying.
I have a habit of throwing good things away because I don’t think I deserve them.
I’m working on that.
Some days are better than others.
I’ve been through things these last couple of years that I never imagined I’d survive.
Police cars.
Hospitals.
Days I barely remember.
Moments where I honestly didn’t know what came next.
People have tried to help me.
Some have.
Some couldn’t.
The truth is, nobody can fix something I refuse to face myself.
Living with BPD makes every emotion louder.
I can explain what it feels like, but words never really do it justice.
Some days the anger is so strong I don’t know what to do with it.
So I take my medication.
I try to stay sober.
I try to walk away.
I’m learning that feeling rage and acting on it aren’t the same thing.
Sometimes I still freeze when something reminds me of the past.
Sometimes it still breaks me.
But every day I get up anyway.
Maybe that’s what healing actually looks like.
Not forgetting.
Just choosing to keep walking, even when part of you still wants to stand still.
Reflecting on my own experiences, the journey of writing a letter to one's past self truly resonates with anyone who has struggled to move forward from past regrets and emotional pain. Living with Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD) intensifies feelings like love, loss, guilt, and shame, making it even harder to accept oneself. It’s common to imagine countless alternate realities—worlds where things turned out differently, like in the multiverses where one might still be with the person they lost or simply hold onto the hope of reconciliation. Managing BPD involves more than just medication; it’s a daily commitment to seek healing through small but meaningful actions. For some, spending quality time with a pet offers comfort and a reminder of unconditional love. Others find healing in learning new skills—like TIG welding—which not only distracts the mind from painful thoughts but also instills a sense of accomplishment and independence. A crucial part of healing from BPD is embracing the complexity of emotions. Rage, sadness, and loneliness may feel overwhelming, but learning to separate feelings from actions is empowering. It helps to recognize that feeling anger doesn’t mean one has to act on it destructively. Therapy, support groups, and trusted friends can help build this awareness, but ultimately, the courage to face inner demons and show up each day is what drives lasting change. An important insight is that healing does not mean forgetting the past; rather, it’s about choosing to move forward despite knowing the wounds are still there. Accepting imperfection, allowing oneself to be vulnerable, and working through the pain without judgment are essential steps. Many who live with BPD share a tendency to sabotage good things in life because they feel undeserving, but overcoming this requires patience and self-compassion. This letter also highlights the bittersweet nature of love—how deeply it can hurt when lost, yet how essential it is to our human experience. It’s okay to struggle with love and self-acceptance simultaneously; these are not mutually exclusive. Every day is an opportunity to redefine one’s relationship with oneself and others. For anyone on a similar path, know that you are not alone in your struggles or in your hopes to one day become someone to be proud of. Healing is not a finite destination but a continuous process of growth, forgiveness, and resilience. Keep walking forward, even when your heart feels heavy, because every step is a testament to your strength and humanity.
