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The Days When Just Existing Feels Heavy --- And Why You're Not a Burden for Struggling

Hey.

Come sit with me for a minute. I want to talk to you about those days — you know the ones. The days where it feels like gravity has doubled, like your mind and your heart decided to run a marathon while your body can barely keep up.

Those days where existing feels like a full-time job
…and you’re already past your limit.

Yeah.
Those days.

I have them too.

And you’d be surprised how many of us quietly carry moments like that, trying to act “fine” while feeling anything but.

So let’s talk about it, honestly and gently.

When the World Feels Too Loud, Even When It’s Silent

There are mornings I wake up and the world feels off-center, like everything is tilted just a little.
Nothing happened — no big crisis, no fight, no disaster — but my body is convinced something is wrong.

And there I am, brushing my hair or making tea, trying to figure out why I feel like I’m already failing before I’ve even done anything.

It’s a strange kind of loneliness, isn’t it?
Being overwhelmed by something you can’t explain.

But listen…
Feeling that way doesn’t make you dramatic. It doesn’t make you weak.
It makes you human.

Your nervous system is doing the best it can with the emotions it was wired to feel intensely.

The Fear of Being “Too Much” — Let’s Just Say It Out Loud

If you live with BPD, or any kind of emotional sensitivity, you’ve probably said this to yourself:

“I don’t want to bother anyone.”
“Everyone’s tired of hearing about my feelings.”
“I’m too much.”

I think about that last one a lot.
Because when you carry deep emotions, you get used to apologizing for your existence in small ways — silencing yourself, shrinking a little, waiting for someone to confirm your worst fears.

But here’s the truth I want you to hear from me, face-to-face, with all the softness in the world:

You are not too much.
Your feelings are not too much.
You’re just someone who feels deeply.
And there’s nothing shameful about that.

The right people won’t see you as a burden.
They’ll see you as a person — one worth understanding, worth listening to, worth staying for.

Your Pain Doesn’t Need to Be Justified to Be Valid

I used to tell myself I had to “earn” the right to feel sad.
Like I needed proof. Evidence. A dramatic story.

But sometimes the pain isn’t interesting or cinematic.
Sometimes it’s quiet.
Sometimes it’s a soft ache with no name.

And you know what?

That still counts.
Your pain is real even when you can’t explain it.
Your hurt matters even when you can’t articulate it perfectly.

It’s okay to not know why you feel the way you do.
You deserve compassion anyway.

The Smallest Acts of Care Are Still Progress

There are days when healing feels big and powerful and cinematic — moments where you feel like you’re finally stepping into a version of yourself you’ve been trying to reach.

But there are also days when healing looks like:

• getting out of bed
• brushing your hair
• drinking water
• texting someone back
• crying instead of shutting down
• letting yourself rest

These moments don’t always feel victorious, but believe me, they are.

You’re choosing to take care of yourself in the middle of a storm your brain created — and that takes strength people don’t see.

I see it though.
And I’m proud of you for it.

You Deserve People Who Stay — Even When You’re Struggling

Let me say this gently, because it’s something a lot of us don’t believe:

You deserve steady people.
People who don’t disappear the moment your emotions spike.
People who don’t shame you for needing reassurance.
People who don’t make you feel broken for feeling deeply.

You deserve someone who hears you say, “I’m having a rough day,”
and responds with
“I’ve got you. It’s okay.”

But here’s something else:
You deserve your own gentleness too.

Talk to yourself like someone you love.
You’ve been surviving storms no one else even knows about.
You’ve carried emotions with the weight of oceans.

You deserve softness — from others, yes,
but especially from yourself.

If Today Is Heavy, Stay With Me for One More Moment

If you’re reading this on a day where everything hurts…
I’m glad you’re here.
I’m glad you stayed long enough to reach these words.
I know you’re tired. I know life feels blurry sometimes.
I know it isn’t fair that you have to fight this hard to feel okay.

But you’re still here.
And that means something.
It means everything.

You’re not falling behind.
You’re not failing.
You’re navigating life with a heart that feels too much, breaks too fast, and loves too deeply.

That kind of heart isn’t a flaw.
It’s a rare gift.

And I’m proud of you — not for being perfect, but for being here, trying, in your own quiet way.

~Your Beautiful Mind

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