The angry winter’s wind hollows through my naked soul, but all I do is smiling. Here I am, in the middle of nowhere…and I would run and hide, but I don’t have my safe place anymore. Constantly, like a mantra, I keep repeating my name. He said I can control this urge of self-destruction, he said I can be…


That’s how I asked with tears of hope in my eyes. Because, once I lost the feeling of normality, it also lost myself. And it became my greatest dream, something he gently corrects every time I even approach the subject. I know he’s trying to protect me from…myself. That’s what therapists do, isn’t it?

“You can be in control.”

In control of this rage inside, always self-orientated, always self-harming…

In control of this fear of being abandoned, irrational feeling that’s destroying everything I try to build…

In control of this tornado of emotions that overwhelms me, leaving me empty inside…

So I’m learning to be in control…

I’m Isabella and I’m Borderline. I live with a heart wide open, just like an open wound that keeps bleeding and keeps breaking. I’m in therapy and I’m in love.

And this is the way I choose to tell my story…



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