DAE have moments in time when you feel confident, hopeful, aware of the uphill struggle of life with BPD but ready to tackle it?  Only to then have BPD stomp in like always and steal all those feelings.  

I've been fooling myself that maybe I was able to manage this alone.  That I wouldn't need meds or therapy, that I could just be strong.  I'd been coping for months, got over the loss of my FP, living a semi normal life.  

Today it came crashing down and I'm sat here in bits, sobbing,  terrified.  The world, my feelings, it's all too damn much.  As always no major event happened, nothing that justifies this level of extreme grief and fear and I don't know what to do, how to drag myself out of it.

I'm on the waiting list for therapy, have been since 2020, it's a 4 year wait.  I dont feel comfortable admitting how much I'm struggling to my support network because I'll probably be over it in a few hours in true BPD fashion and then I feel stupid.

Excuse my rant and any formatting issues, I'm on mobile.