Besides very extreme form of BPD I also live with CPTSD and BDD. 
I was raised by a narcissist and a sociopath. 
I grew up in a house of terror, not house of love. 
I grew up in a silent house, for making a sound would be met with a punishment. 
I was bullied heavily at school and every other “outside of home” area. 
I was bullied too by my parents so everywhere Id go I’d live in terror and fear of being hurt physically and emotionally all over again. 
Being hit and being shouted at and being called names is all I know. 
And now, 30 years later, I often see life through my parents’ lens. 
And i always hate myself for it. 
I lost touch with my father about 12 years ago. I was still in touch with my mother though. Till a bit over 2 months ago when I tried to kill myself. Before all the pills i took kicked in and before i lost consciousness i rang my mother to address my trauma, and it went very badly. 
Long story short about a week ago she messaged me to say that she’s “done looking within and she understands how her ways could have contributed towards my mental illness.” 
Wow. Huge step. Massive step, even! So i thought. Just to be met with a message last night, that its about time I stop blaming her for everything that goes badly in my life. 
Sure! I would! If only the way u raised me wasnt affecting me on the daily! Oh how
I wish I’d have had a healthy childhood where even 10% of my emotional needs was met. A childhood, that wouldnt produce an adult, who simply doesnt know how to behave in a healthy manner because everything i was ever exposed to, was being treated worse than a piece of trash. Oh how i wish i wasnt hit for every wrong doing, so now in my 30s my first reaction to anger wouldn’t be to also want to hit someone. 
Lately i found myself in a place where i love to scare my cat. Terrify him. I wouldnt hurt him physically nor even touch him. But i love giving him an impression that i might. The other day i chased after him just for the fun of it till it pissed itself. The “me” side of me cried. I hated myself for it. The “seeing life through my parents’ lens, however, made me enjoy it sadistically. I even laughed, after i stopped crying. 
Im getting married in 3 months and my family will be absent. 
I am so unhappy guys. Everything seems wrong ever since I survived my last suicide attempt. Everything seems out order, and out of place. 
Why had my husband come back home at 5 instead of his regular 7? 
I wouldnt have to feel anymore what Im still feeling. 
Meds. Therapy. None of it makes any difference. I stopped drinking since my last attempt. Idk why. I just feel this revulsion towards booze. Only weed helps. But thats only available when i have cash and nowadays that hardly ever happens. 
I fucking hate it here. I am so fucking miserable.