I used to use social media as a last resort when certain ideation got severe, because if I was willing to embarrass myself by asking for love/support from thousands of strangers, I could be guaranteed a day full of small reassertions that my existence was a plus.

But people have too much on their minds now. I get it. There are a lot of bigger things in this world than whether one person feels like she has a place in it. Truth is, I don't, really. I've made myself irrelevant. The world needs a lot of stuff, and I don't have any of it.

The world needs courage. The world needs educated people. The world needs strength, selflessness. It apparently needs rage that motivates rather than debilitates, and I've never mastered that. The world needs people who are sensitive to others but tough about their own pain.

This isn't some dramatic final goodbye note or anything. An exit isn't an option for a woman with two kids who aren't (yet) screwed up beyond repair. It's just a relapse of my compulsion for public confession.

I've never gotten the hang of existing outside of people's perceptions of me. Therapy has calmed a lot of the external BPD symptoms that wrecked my life, but inside? What little self-concept I ever managed to achieve, I lost when I stopped writing. But I still can't write.

Everything I see on social media reinforces the idea that what the world needs is people who are the opposite of me in nearly every way. I'm constantly, achingly aware of the financial/emotional resources I consume. Even this thread takes a toll on already-stressed people.

I don't personally know anyone who wishes more than I do that they could be a force for good in the world. I also don't know anyone less capable of being that. So in addition to -- you know, everything else -- I'm sitting every day with self-loathing on an unbearable scale.