As I read all my previous posts, I suddenly realised how fast time passes. So I have been struggling for 13 years. And all my posts sounded the same. I just keep repeating those words in the posts. I guess even after so long, nothing changed. And I'm probably going to continue repeating them. Have nothing changed? I grew up, I studied, I graduated, i started working. But why do all these thoughts and emotions stay the same? Am i going to continue suffering for the rest of my life? Well, one thing is... I know what my actual diagnosis is. It makes a difference. But at the same time, it doesn't. It doesnt take away my pain and suffering. Although it helped me understand myself better. Even so, I still don't really understand myself. Each time I experience negative emotions and thoughts, i have to think and anaylse so hard for the reasons. Maybe it doesnt matter whether i know the reasons or not. But i guess.... The problem with being aware and conscious that something is wrong makes me want to know what it is, and why. And I find myself always having to explain so hard to others. Because no one understands. I probably should count the number of times i stated "no one understands" in this blog. I am a high functioning BPD. I studied and graduated from University. I have a stable job. Because of that, everyone thinks all is well. And humans being humans, tend to judge others. Just because I seem "normal" on the surface doesnt mean I am struggling lesser than the others. I realised that sometimes having a label might actually be a relief. When others look at a person with mental illness that appears obvious, their expectations lowers and they might actually be more understanding towards them. On the other hand, a high functioning person struggling with mental illness might look so normal that others place the same societal expectations on them and end up judging them for their shortfalls. Its tiring. Of course I'm not saying who is better off, because ultimately, we are all strugglling badly in our own circumstances. And it feels terrible. 

I wonder, why am I still alive? Is it because I am afraid of the process of commiting suicide? All of a sudden I just feel like withdrawing myself. My tolerance and capacity have dropped drastically. I'm no longer who I was.