I have suffered from depression and anxiety since I was a child. I have been on medication before for it, but it never seemed to help. I saw a therapist for a while, saw a few of them, and that never seemed to help. And all other activities that they recommend for people with depression or anxiety were difficult to find the motivation for when I could barely leave the bed. 

After a bad break-up, I decided to try the medication once more. Was put on a different medication, and it seemed to be the 'cure'. I still had lows, but they were much less intense than before. I think what also helped me at that time was the fresh start in life. I had moved to a new city, made new friends, found work that I loved. And I started to date my current boyfriend, Thomas. I had the motivation to do activities, and always seemed to be surrounded by people who loved and supported me. 

However, around July of last year, I stopped the medication. Classic mistake, eh? This was also around the time that the problems in my relationship started up, and seemed to be when problems at work became unbearable. I didn't see friends as much as I used to, shut myself out from the world. I only ever really saw Thomas and started to see him as the 'answer' to all of life's problems. Bad day at work? Vent to Thomas for a few hours. Roommate problems? Vent to Thomas for a few hours. But because I saw him as the 'answer', I also saw him as the problem when it never improved. 

This was irrational, but I had to make it seem rational and would cling to any wrongdoings that he did. You didn't remember to pick up the drink I asked for? You must not love me, probably think that I am stupid, and don't want to be with me anymore. It seemed like every little problem escalated to the point where it was out of control, intense emotions, and often discussion of a break up. I'd say the break up discussions happened at least once a month since July.

Every comment he makes is turned back around onto how horrible of a person I am, how much everyone hates me, how worthless I am. He would invite me to spend time with his friends, but I would say no because they hate me and probably don't even want me to be there. Which then means 40 minutes of his reassurance that they do like me, do want me to be there, and that they always ask where I am. Same for about every other event in life. 

Last week, I quit work. Quite impulsive and have no backup plan for that. This has made me more intense with Thomas. Want to know when we want to move out of this town, where we want to move to. I want that security, I suppose. And I have pushed and pushed him on this. When he doesn't provide me with the answers I want, which is always because it never seems to be enough, I say that he must not want to move in with me and that we may as well break up. 

This is what happened yesterday. Same problem. Fear of this sudden uncertainty. But I have never quite been this bad before. I screamed and screamed. I called him horrible names, which I never have before. I said he destroyed my life. I said it would be better if he walked away from me, and when he never responded to any of that, I went to his apartment and packed up all of my stuff. Sent about 30 texts to him in a row about how I must have never meant much to him.  A real low point for me. And when he did finally respond to me, he told me that this is an unhealthy relationship and he doesn't see how this could continue anymore. Cue the fear of abandonment, pleads from me about how we can make it work. "I'm not sure how either, but I want to make it work. Please don't give up on me." And he says he doesn't see any way how it can... but that he will call me tomorrow (today) to tell me what he thinks when he has calmed down.

After I calmed down, I realized there is a real problem with me. This is not normal. I'm embarrassed by the way that I act. And with or without him, I need stability with these emotions. I need to find a way to be happy on my own. So, I started the only place I knew where to start, which was back on the medication.

I talked to the doctor and told her about the depression, the anxiety. How I have had panic attacks. How intense the emotions are. How low I feel about myself. How impulsive I can be. The suicide attempts. The dissociation I feel in the height of these emotions. We talked for a while, and she said that I have BPD. I did my own research on it afterwards, and it all clicked for me. But while I feel relieved to know what this is and work towards better coping strategies, I can't help but feel scared too. 

Is there really a way to salvage a relationship that's been hurt by BPD? And I'm afraid for what this means for future relationships. All my relationships have been this roller coaster of emotions, constant break ups and intense emotional fights. Can I work on myself and still be with him? Or should I let him go and work on myself? I just want some advice from those who understand.

Thanks for reading.