 I was diagnosed with BPD a few months ago, and a lot of things make sense.

I've been seeing a psychiatrist for over 2 years now, as a result of me being sent to the ER as I had my first ever panic attack in 2017. My parents doesn't believe in mental issues (I don't blame them, that's how they were raised) so I'm glad I'm living away from them and get to continue seeking treatment. 

I won't go into details, but long story short, I was initially diagnosed with MDD for two years and recently, BPD. The hospital I go to is public-funded so they're very short-staffed and I see different doctors every time, and it's tiring having to explain myself everytime I go for my appointment, but this doctor nailed it perfectly. 

And it makes sense. I can go for being super happy to super sad to super angry in an hour. I can feel so much love for the people I care deeply for, and absolutely despise them the day after. I tell lies and manipulate my way out when I get in trouble, especially when I know I'm about to get dumped.  

It's funny, I have a fear of abandonment but I have no problem abandoning people and never talking to them again as soon as I feel comfortable being without them. I'm not proud of this quality of mine. 

I recently had a breakup and while it wasn't my first relationship, this one hurt me most. I loved him, I still do, there are so many good things in him. This quarantine period isn't helping either. I self-harmed a couple of times back in school over a decade ago, but a few weeks ago I don't know what prompted me to do it, but I downed some Lorazepam pills with alcohol. I don't even remember what happened but I remember flashes of my friend who I live with yelling me that our friendship is toxic, and that I need to sort myself out, in front of our other flatmate who just moved in. There are fresh cuts on my arm, and I remember standing over my bedroom window and discovered that I can fit and jump out if I want to. Two months of being stuck in the same apartment, we barely talk and right now I just hate her so much. 

I'm scared to look for help or work on myself to get better because I don't want to have that painful disappointment feeling again if it doesn't work out. I completely disagree with whoever invented the phrase "It's better to feel hurt than feeling nothing at all." Feeling hurt destroys you, I've been there and I don't ever want to go back. I'm perfectly content feeling empty and numb.

I'm not quite sure why I'm posting here. I don't feel like I belong anywhere. I guess I'm both happy and ashamed that I finally know what's wrong with me. I'm ashamed as I know I've hurt so many people in my life, and how I wish I was normal. I've read a lot of what you guys posted in this sub, and I'm glad that there are good stories here :) I wish I things would get better for me, and I wish the very best for all of you.