The level of suicidality, as I'm sure with all with that BPD trait, comes and goes. Like the weather in the White Mountains where it ranges from unstabily okay to downright "if you're outside you're dead."

How do you not give in when it hits and you're planning and you're thinking you're through with getting to that space and everything in general, in level 10 crisis, but knowing it'll pass in a couple hours and you'll be ok for a bit, and then know it'll come back, and pass, and come back, and pass, but always come back?

I've been here too many times, and there's a pretty good chance I'll be back here in a more impulsive mindset (if I'm not already there) and just be done with coming back and do what's in my power to not leave and return.

I fking hate this. I don't want to be anymore. My treatment team, and even the psych eval at the ER, don't even take me seriously. My T commended me on being alive and asked me how I do it, and I don't even know. I survived a lot of things people shouldn't survive, so I'm pretty sure nothing can kill me.

I NEED OUT!