I'd totally been thinking of different things to write about for the past few days that I was dwelling on, annnnndd in true fashion I forgot all of them.

So on Christmas day I decided I'd go back to therapy. I'm sort of regretting that decision now, but feel like I said I'd do it so I will. Which sort of makes me feel trapped even more than the idea of it.
Given my major you'd think I'd be more open to the idea, but I really just feel judged when I'm there.I always feel like someone is trying to dictate what I do with my life.

Granted, I have had a therapist who wasn't like that. Hell she knew I'd do whatever I wanted even when she was telling me that I was going down a really dangerous road with drinking all the time.

Anyway. I decided to go back because I really 100% feel like I fit the diagnosis of BPD. Which I dropped on Squish on Christmas Day. I have absolutely no idea how he took this since I have no idea how he takes most things lately. But that's a super different subject since I'm convinced he has some severe depression going.

I've always had problems that were evident since I was a kid, and things found from adults with BPD reported by parents included pretty much a ton of symptoms for me as well. And my teen years they often wondered if I was bipolar which is another glaringly obvious indicator apparently. And that's around where my self-injury, drinking, and enjoying attention started. Which since those are my fantastic coping mechanisms that work (sorry crochet is a hobby but no it does not 'fix' internal feelings), therapy makes me nervous. Or someone telling you that something is wrong with you and how you think. I know it, I acknowledge it. However other people saying so is difficult.