Sometimes I wish what I had was as real and tangible as alcoholism or a drug addiction. There is something real to battle and win. Instead of this intangible illness that affects everything I do that I can never be cured of that hurts everyone and I just have to deal with till it eventually kills me. How many people, I wonder, who have BPD die of old age? I know it isn’t impossible, but I wonder what the odds are.

Don’t worry I don’t intend to turn to alcohol. I can’t mix it with my meds. And I won’t turn to drug addiction. I pop enough pills as it is. I rattle enough as it is.

No those aren’t the only reason.

My illness hurts those enough as it is, why purposely add to that?

All I’m saying is that “15 years sober” sounds better than “15 years off my rocker”

Then again, Bella might just kick my ass for this entire post. She alone holds that right.