not actually fish


Tag yourself I’m Undyne.

I totally didn’t expect the lovely feedback my little silly cross-over comic got, so to show my appreciation - and of course I heard the Sidon whispers - have one more of the sort. :)

Part 1: Urbosa Reaction

“Call me Tsuyu.”

Ghost Side Of Bpd:

The thing is; I don’t want to get better anymore.

My life is a mess, and I know that I need to get back on my feet, move on and start again. Start trying again, start getting better again, start smiling and start hoping again. I know and aware that I am wasting my youth in a room. Alone and sad.

But I don’t want to.

I want to hide in this room, slowly fade away. Die in my sleep, let people forget that I exist. See, that is the problem I face everyday.

It is like trying to cross the street blindfolded, while carrying a fish in a glass jar.

You are scared, you don’t know which way to go, but you know you have to go.

You are also worried about small things, like a fish in your hands, but they mean a lot, because it is a matter of life for you.

But you don’t even know if the fish is still there, if it dropped out of the glass or if it is already dead.

You can hear the cars moving around, you know you have to be quick, because they are quick and you are like a giant rock on the road, making other peoples life harder for them.

So you get scared that one of them is going to get angry with you and hurt you.

There are people everywhere, telling you move to that side and this side. Every step you take towards one is always a problem for another person, so whatever you do you get yelled at.

You are shaking with fear but they just laugh. You get ashamed, just want to drop to the ground and cry your eyes out. But you are simply not allowed. You have to move.

But the scariest thing is that you don’t even know how you ended up there or where you are trying to go.

All you know is how you got hit by all those cars on the road, and the scars you can feel around your body.

There is only one thing everyone; people that passing by in cars, people that are trying to “help” you, people that are laughing at you agreed on.

It is your fault.

This is what it feels like to try to live with bpd.

And that is why I want to die.

Petkeeping metaphor

So imagine you have this dog.

Your dog is in a bubble.

You can change where the bubble is, change its size, its shape, its contents, everything.

You can interact with your dog through the bubble and from outside the bubble, but you can’t enter the bubble.

You control literally everything about the bubble. You control how much air is inside the bubble. If you leave too many dog poops in the bubble, the smell will grow and could suffocate him. If you don’t add new air, he will suffocate. If you don’t feed him or give him water, he will die. If you don’t put things in his bubble to play with, he will become bored and depressed. If you don’t clean out his bubble, bacteria and fungus will grow in there and give your dog diseases. And your dog’s bubble doesn’t transfer heat well so he can get very cold very easily and die that way.

Now imagine your dog is smaller than your hand. And he has scales. And his bubble is full of water and made of glass and your dog is actually a fish.

Keeping fish is not easier than keeping any other pet.

It’s much more difficult because you aren’t only caring for your fish, you’re caring for their whole universe.