I've been going through alot lately. I'm starting therapy on Thursday. But I've also been trying to journal to keep track of my thoughts. I'm convinced I have BPD but obviously self-diagnosis is usually a no-go. I'm just curious... does this sound like BPD?

&amp;#x200B;

February 3

Today I woke up as I have all too often lately—feeling nervous and anxious, desperately overcome with the urge to get out of the house. Luckily, I had \[a work thing\] in the morning to give me somewhere to be. Less sleep than I might have wanted led me to be a bit tired this morning as I made my way to \[the work thing\]. In my tired, caffeine deprived state, I began my day in the state of mind that I have become all too familiar with of late. Feeling lonely, disconnected, and like something is wrong with me.

I’m hungry and cold. My body feels tense. Sick almost. I don’t want a greasy breakfast sandwich from McDonald’s, but I settle for it. Before I can make it to Starbucks, I have a moment in my car where I feel briefly overwhelmed. I sit in languish, attempting to nap or to meditate, but I am unable to turn off the thoughts—the endless racking of my brain for moments in my life that might serve as an indication that I am, always have been, and always will be unwell. I find plenty of examples. I have an entire arsenal of experiences, feelings and vignettes that prove that I am a hollow, unaware, and selfish. Thoughts of failures in relationships both big and small, momentary (or not so momentary) lapses of self-awareness or moments where I have succumbed to holding on to ill will toward others. Moments where I failed to see a whole human, instead focusing on their imperfections. Are these moments just caused by a lifelong combination of (social) anxiety, ADD, depression and a lack of wisdom or maturity? Or is there one thing that ties it all together? I shudder at the thought there may be something that is a part of me that means I will always make the same mistakes.

It seems that in the last several months (really the last two years) because of back to back deployments, moving to a new country, COVID, and pay issues. I have been so stressed, so angry, so unsatisfied with life, so lonely that it has caused me to relentlessly (whether I want it or not) search my mind. I’m remembering parts of my life that I thought I had buried. Parts that I have tried so desperately to leave in the past. I’m remembering these moments in a subconscious attempt to find the common thread that defines me.

Do I have a disease? Am I destined to feel empty, unfulfilled, alone and anxious my whole life?

Maybe I simply haven’t spent enough time thinking of others. Maybe, because I’ve spent my entire life attempting to define myself by the things I do, the jokes I make, my “astute observations” however astute they may actually be, and my ambitions, maybe I’ve been missing the point by not thinking of other people. This thought sticks with me as I go through my day.

I try to focus on presence. If I start to feel anxious I find something to ground me. I begin to wonder if maybe presence also means something larger. Maybe it means living in the moment. Not in the sense of going out and being wild, but in the sense that maybe I should spend some time focusing on my job and the people around me, instead of focusing what I lack and what I could have or where I could be that would make me happier.

I get home and I lay on the couch. For twenty minutes, I consciously take time to think about all of the people in my life that love me. I think of their imperfections, and I wish them well. Maybe if I make a habit of this, I can train myself to think more of others. Let us hope.