BehindTheBorderline
@borderlinesub.bsky.social
Broken toy and mentally somewhere else | liebt ihn ♥️ | Pain-Slut vom Sadisten | Gefühlschaos | lost & found | beautifully broken | messy mind
devot | kinky | Brat
https://www.baumwollseil.de/wunschliste-borderlinesub.html
devot | kinky | Brat
https://www.baumwollseil.de/wunschliste-borderlinesub.html
Pinned
So ein ehrliches, glückliches, gelöstestes Lachen. Oder einfach nur ein Lächeln. Das wärs mal wieder.
Wenn der Sadist mir aufgrund von Buchbewertungen auf Insta Dark-Romance-Bücher bestellt und diese genau meine Kinks treffen... dann ist das Liebe, oder? 😌
November 29, 2025 at 7:15 PM
Wenn der Sadist mir aufgrund von Buchbewertungen auf Insta Dark-Romance-Bücher bestellt und diese genau meine Kinks treffen... dann ist das Liebe, oder? 😌
Some storms don’t break me.
They forge me.
They forge me.
November 29, 2025 at 2:27 PM
Some storms don’t break me.
They forge me.
They forge me.
I am not "your" good girl. But I am his.
November 28, 2025 at 5:30 PM
I am not "your" good girl. But I am his.
Ok. Fuck it.
November 28, 2025 at 10:55 AM
Ok. Fuck it.
Klarheit, die schmerzt.
Und vielleicht auch ein bisschen befreiende Wut und Fassungslosigkeit.
Und vielleicht auch ein bisschen befreiende Wut und Fassungslosigkeit.
November 28, 2025 at 2:28 AM
Klarheit, die schmerzt.
Und vielleicht auch ein bisschen befreiende Wut und Fassungslosigkeit.
Und vielleicht auch ein bisschen befreiende Wut und Fassungslosigkeit.
Falls ihr es gerade rumpeln habt hören, das war ich. Ich könnte gerade heulen. Ich wurde endlich einer Therapeutin zugeteilt und kann jetzt den ersten Termin ausmachen.
November 27, 2025 at 2:50 PM
Falls ihr es gerade rumpeln habt hören, das war ich. Ich könnte gerade heulen. Ich wurde endlich einer Therapeutin zugeteilt und kann jetzt den ersten Termin ausmachen.
Tie me tighter than my thoughts.
November 27, 2025 at 1:16 PM
Tie me tighter than my thoughts.
Soft body. Heavy mind. Tight knots.
November 27, 2025 at 1:03 PM
Soft body. Heavy mind. Tight knots.
I learned to bite down my truth until it bled…
To smile when my voice was breaking, to kneel to the silence that kept me small. But the ache in me is done obeying and the darkness is finally asking to be heard.
To smile when my voice was breaking, to kneel to the silence that kept me small. But the ache in me is done obeying and the darkness is finally asking to be heard.
November 26, 2025 at 2:45 PM
I learned to bite down my truth until it bled…
To smile when my voice was breaking, to kneel to the silence that kept me small. But the ache in me is done obeying and the darkness is finally asking to be heard.
To smile when my voice was breaking, to kneel to the silence that kept me small. But the ache in me is done obeying and the darkness is finally asking to be heard.
You can be both.
The "good girl" and the girl who survived everything.
The "good girl" and the girl who survived everything.
November 25, 2025 at 6:26 AM
You can be both.
The "good girl" and the girl who survived everything.
The "good girl" and the girl who survived everything.
Kink taught me boundaries.
Trauma taught me why I needed them.
Trauma taught me why I needed them.
November 24, 2025 at 7:01 PM
Kink taught me boundaries.
Trauma taught me why I needed them.
Trauma taught me why I needed them.
A quiet confession of the girl who wanted to speak, but found safety in surrender instead.
Some silences are chosen…
and some are simply survived.
Some silences are chosen…
and some are simply survived.
November 24, 2025 at 3:58 PM
A quiet confession of the girl who wanted to speak, but found safety in surrender instead.
Some silences are chosen…
and some are simply survived.
Some silences are chosen…
and some are simply survived.
There were days I wrapped my arms around myself because it was the only way to feel safe…
and silence felt easier than truth.
and silence felt easier than truth.
November 24, 2025 at 1:26 PM
There were days I wrapped my arms around myself because it was the only way to feel safe…
and silence felt easier than truth.
and silence felt easier than truth.
Reposted by BehindTheBorderline
Wer chronisch/ psychisch krank ist, wird meistens nicht erst genommen, bis es zu spät ist.
November 20, 2025 at 7:03 PM
Wer chronisch/ psychisch krank ist, wird meistens nicht erst genommen, bis es zu spät ist.
Reposted by BehindTheBorderline
mein leben ist eine lange umschreibung des satzes ' sorry ich hab keine freude an sowas'
November 20, 2025 at 2:42 PM
mein leben ist eine lange umschreibung des satzes ' sorry ich hab keine freude an sowas'
I'm borderline happy and I'm borderline sad
I'm borderline good and I'm borderline bad
And I can't get rid of this tingling fear
You'd sort me out if my head gets clear
I'm borderline good and I'm borderline bad
And I can't get rid of this tingling fear
You'd sort me out if my head gets clear
November 20, 2025 at 1:32 PM
I'm borderline happy and I'm borderline sad
I'm borderline good and I'm borderline bad
And I can't get rid of this tingling fear
You'd sort me out if my head gets clear
I'm borderline good and I'm borderline bad
And I can't get rid of this tingling fear
You'd sort me out if my head gets clear
Ich wollte was zum devoten Donnerstag schreiben, aber... ich fühls gerade nicht... 😔
November 20, 2025 at 11:19 AM
Ich wollte was zum devoten Donnerstag schreiben, aber... ich fühls gerade nicht... 😔
So ein ehrliches, glückliches, gelöstestes Lachen. Oder einfach nur ein Lächeln. Das wärs mal wieder.
November 20, 2025 at 9:28 AM
So ein ehrliches, glückliches, gelöstestes Lachen. Oder einfach nur ein Lächeln. Das wärs mal wieder.
Sometimes you need a hug from the rope.
November 19, 2025 at 3:23 PM
Sometimes you need a hug from the rope.
So, get away
Another way to feel what you didn't want yourself to know
And let yourself go
Another way to feel what you didn't want yourself to know
And let yourself go
November 18, 2025 at 9:17 AM
So, get away
Another way to feel what you didn't want yourself to know
And let yourself go
Another way to feel what you didn't want yourself to know
And let yourself go
There’s something comforting about fallen wood. The way it softens into the forest, the way decay becomes a quiet kind of resilience.
Some days I feel like this too.
Weathered, breaking open and still finding a place to belong.
Some days I feel like this too.
Weathered, breaking open and still finding a place to belong.
November 17, 2025 at 12:12 PM
There’s something comforting about fallen wood. The way it softens into the forest, the way decay becomes a quiet kind of resilience.
Some days I feel like this too.
Weathered, breaking open and still finding a place to belong.
Some days I feel like this too.
Weathered, breaking open and still finding a place to belong.
Raise a glass for the empty-hearted
Too far gone to know when it started
Too far gone to know when it started
November 14, 2025 at 5:03 PM
Raise a glass for the empty-hearted
Too far gone to know when it started
Too far gone to know when it started
