I'm almost 24, and I think I've finally accepted that nothing gets better. My whole life has been shit, and it was just supposed to finally change for the better, and that went to shit too. So I'm done. 

I grew up being emotionally abused, and witnessing domestic violence. I think I have BPD, but of course I can't afford to be formally diagnosed. I never had any friends. No one liked me. I was alone. I've always been all alone. Always on the outside, watching everyone else have friendships and closeness and intimacy, and having no one want those things with me. I know it's pathetic, being almost 24 and still being sad about shit that happened when I was a child, but I am, so. 

I met my boyfriend at 18, and love him deeply. I finally felt loved, and accepted. My dysfunctional family didn't teach me any good communication skills, so we had to figure all of that out, well I did, but we did it together. He's in college for a new job like thousand miles away, and we've been long distance for the time being - the program is 6 months, he's got like a month and a half left. He was going to be put somewhere else in the country after graduating, which was fine with me. I wanted to leave. 

We got the list of cities to choose from, and compiled a list, knowing that while we weren't guaranteed to get where we wanted, we did have a good chance of it. I should've known here, that if something bad could happen to me, it would. And of course, it did. He got a city that wasn't even on the list they gave us, a small northern town of 500 fucking people. Five *hundred* fucking people. More people live in my current apartment building. More people went to my fucking highschool than live in that god forsaken town. Of course, everyone else got a normal city, one that they'd want to live in. He's the only one who got a shitty place, and there's nothing we can do about it. My plan was to do my Master's in whatever city he was placed in, though I would still be able to do it online. 

I just don't know if I'd be happy in a city that small. It doesn't even have a McDonald's. His posting is three years. A long time. He'll be busy with work, and I will probably be alone a lot. I don't know if I'll be happy there, but I know I won't be happy without him, if I don't go. And I can't afford our apartment on my own, and it's not like I can move back in with my parents. 

This has been a hard year for me. I struggled a lot with my mental health from December to around March, we were having issues in our relationship and broke up for a day, and three weeks after that he left for 6 months. Being apart has been really hard on me, I've been struggling a lot with anxiety, I'm sure I'm codependent and stuff. 

Things were just supposed to finally get better. And now I feel like I have to choose between the love of my life and living in civilization. I just don't understand why nothing can ever work out for me. I'm so tired of trying to stay hopeful, trying to make friends, trying to have love, and it always blowing up in my face, leaving me more dejected, embarrassed and ashamed than I was before. I think I'm finally broken. I think I'm done.