We're always labeled manipulators, liars, drama queens, attention seekers; we're not, but I'm begining to think that doesn't even matter. 

All our life we're seen as those things, called those things. By family, by friends. Then they learn we have BPD. "It all makes sense now!" they say. 

But do they correct themselves? Do they apologize? no. they dont. because they dont care why we're in so much pain. they don't care that we can't control it. they don't care if we never meant to hurt people. they just care about putting us in those boxes and making sure we stay there. 

So the put us down. They gaslight us. They abuse us. They make out lives even more than the living hell it already is. Because they'd rather see themselves as the victim than believe that even for a second they were wrong about us. And they are wrong. But when everyone around is so keen on keeping their idea of you and treating you accordingly, when does who you really are start to matter?