At least, that's what this, my mind, makes me feel like. Everyone knows I'm weird, and I finally see what weird means. Defective. I exist, but I'm not full, I'm not what a human is supposed to be. I developed too much in some places and not enough in others. Honestly, I wish my defects just made me into a miscarriage. I feel like nature gave me BPD so I could correct the error of my existence. I hate being a freak.