Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD) makes you feel intensely. For me, music, movies, and TV shows can be especially triggering. I often lose myself in these fictional worlds, believing I am part of the story. With Red (Taylor’s Version)recently released, every emotion Taylor Swift felt writing these songs, I feel when listening. Before the album dropped, fans joked about wanting their significant others to break up with them to embody the album’s themes. With BPD, I didn’t need that.
"Better Man (Taylor’s Version) (From the Vault)" transports me into the mindset of a woman in a toxic relationship, wishing it had worked out. "The Last Time (feat. Gary Lightbody of Snow Patrol) (Taylor’s Version)" stings as if I’ve experienced Swift’s pain firsthand. And All Too Well (10-Minute Version) (Taylor’s Version)? Even without someone to cry over, it feels like she’s singing about my life. That’s the power of this album—it’s meant to hurt, but it hurts more than I expected.
After days of crying over a fictional relationship, I tried to escape with another recent release, Jesse McCartney’s New Stage. But listening to McCartney sing about his wife, Katie Peterson, only made me long for that kind of perfect relationship.
Who wouldn’t want their partner to write an album about them? With BPD, the need for love and constant reassurance is intense. Yet, I have to remind myself that real life doesn’t follow the music I listen to—12-year-old me didn’t marry Jesse McCartney.
Can music be relatable? Absolutely. It can heal the most broken souls, even if it sometimes hurts. Right now, I just need to blast Kesha’s "Woman" and remind myself how badass I am.
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