My self awareness tells me that I will never be understood completely.
My self awareness tells me that I love too much and because of that I hurt too much.
My self awareness tells me that even my most destructive moments and behaviours are acts of pure love and passion.
My self awareness tells me that I am not able to effectively communicate my needs, and self destruction is the result of that. As I am destructing I am very loud and vocal about it, I just haven’t found the right words and I appear vicious and spiteful in my delivery.
My self awareness tells me that I am not manipulative, but I am being selfish in that moment.
My self awareness tells me that sometimes being selfish is necessary to heal.
Sometimes I make huge sacrifices and consequently, self destruct as part of my healing process.
I’m not patient with myself. I expect myself to get straight back up again and make it better.
I do, but it doesn’t make it better, it just delays and I go through the process again and again.
My self awareness is so engaged I can finally see what I have been doing and why I am stuck in a cycle.
This.
This mess.
This is me, breaking the fucking cycle.
I am not BPD/EUPD/CPTSD/ADHD/(Autistic).
They are a part of me, but they are not me.
I am me.
I am Jade.
I accept me.
#breakingthecyclelikeatornadoonmeth
Me, Myself and Who am I? 
My reference to autism is this :
There is a strong similarity between Autism in females and BPD/EUPD females.
There is a high rate of misdiagnosis for BPD/EUPD that later transpired to be Autism.
From a very young age I knew I was different and begged and begged with my mother to tell me what was wrong with me. I loved people so much but all I ended up doing was confusing them and hurting them. I had uncontrollable rage towards unjust situations and could not be consoled. I was told I was oversensitive, overreacting, but I was overwhelmed.
I disappeared into literature and fantasy worlds, waiting for the day for someone to see me, to discover and unearth me and love me for me. For the person who I would never be too much.
I searched my whole life and I finally found her. Through her I got the courage to look at and examine myself thoroughly.
I could not ignore all of my ‘defects’. She accepted my auditory and visual processing issues. She remained patient where I grew more and more frustrated with my differences.
My children showed me familiarities with sensitivity to touch and certain textures. My misophonia and extreme tinnitus drowned out the similarities of the comfort of repetition, echolalia, stimming, solitude, introversion, recovery time.
More and more things started to add up, and the more and more I identify and empathise with the autistic community.
Whether I have Autism or not, BPD or not. I still carry as much passion and advocacy for both.
I have been suffering with sensorimotor OCD like conditions for the best part of this year. It is an insufferable condition that bothers me every single second of every day. I am utterly exhausted.
I have muscular spasms and tics and nervous reactions that I cannot control. I never lost the startle reflex that a baby quickly grows out of. I still have it, it is a great source of entertainment, provided I don’t wet myself in the process! (I am the first person to laugh at myself).
I am currently in sensory overload. I have music on repeat because I cannot bear any other noise, even my own breath makes me anxious.
Now I have unloaded this, I can breathe, relax, sit under my weighted blanket and soothe.
I am loved for me in all my ugly.
She found me.
She unearthed me and chose to still love me.
Starting to put the pieces of me back together.
One at a time.
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