Title pretty much says it all.  I was in a very vulnerable place just emerging from a multi-day suicidal breakdown, started chatting with an online acquaintance, and then hours in became suddenly very paranoid over a disagreement that arose--I can only surmise that I was triggered by some of the way she was saying things and her approach to the conversation (she's described herself as 'mildly autistic', and I've had terribly falling-outs with autistic friends before, so her symptoms peeking through might've had something to do with it), shut down, began relentlessly hurling wild accusations and disparagement, spiraled out in that all-too-familiar horrifying BPD fashion, complete with extreme self-righteousness, even wielding religious zealotry in an aggressive manner.  It was *bad*.  Cringeworthy and regrettable doesn't even begin to describe it.

I'm horrified.  I'm ashamed.  I'm feeling lower than I have in months.  It rained this week and then poured.  I'm so tired of living like this, sincerely striving to get better, only to have everything I touch crumble under the sheer potency of my toxicity.  Now I'm reminded of why I'm so isolated.  I feel like I deserve nothing less than to be isolated.

My religious community is exclusively online, very small, and interconnected.  So I'm sure my reputation--which was likely already on thin ice if I'm being honest as a result of unpopular opinions I held, personal turmoil that leaked through and my personality coming across as abrasive via social media (which isn't at all healthy for me in the least, but there's scant alternative sometimes)--there is totally demolished, or will be.  I had another online friendship in its early stages in the same circles that was hanging by a thread, but that girl is much better friends with this woman I went off on, and they talk frequently, so...

Now what?  I feel so vacant.  I'm even further ashamed to say that I was only able to bring myself to get up and send her a pathetic apology message today after consuming some carisoprodol, a drug I'm not prescribed and have a very much ongoing issue with abuse of.  I let myself down, I feel as if I spectacularly failed everyone who has continued to believe in me, and most importantly hurt someone I was beginning to care for and establish rapport with, something that makes it even to that stage so rarely as it is.  Why should anyone believe I'm a good person in reality "deep down" when I act like this?  Sure, some of it feels like it's out of my control at the time.  I lash out when I'm frightened, overwhelmed and feel irrationally betrayed.  But that only makes it worse, because I'm always sweeping up the shards after the fact.  I feel like Sisyphus, endlessly heaving that boulder up the hill only for it to roll back down again and pulverize everything that has begun to sprout at the bottom.

Sorry, this is one of those terribly depressing, negative posts.  But I'm just about at the end of my rope here.  I'm so incredibly exhausted of living with severe BPD and two other comorbid personality disorders that erode everything I try to build, from friendships to life opportunities.  I've tried to live, I'm still trying to survive this psychic hell, but I want off this nauseating ride.  :'(  Perhaps some of you can empathize with this awful cycle and dark place.  I don't deserve *sympathy*, certainly, but I could use any scraps of empathy from anywhere right now.