Hi everyone, this isn’t a very happy post, so please go back if you don’t want to read even more unhappy stories. 
Apologies in advance for my bad grammar and spelling. I also tend to ramble on and jump back and forth between thoughts, so apologies again.
I will also be posting this in the BPD subreddit, but I’m not so great with working Reddit, so please bare with me.

I’m a 28 yo Female in the UK, (I was born a male and had my GRS in 2016) and In the early hours of last Tuesday I tried to kill myself. 
I’m not sure what everyone’s individual definition of a suicide attempt is, but I’ll share all of mine.

I’ll try to cut my very long story short.
My birth parents separated when I was young, and as you do - during the week your with one parent and at the weekend another’s. 
My birth father is an evil man, he would beat my mother, get his family to follow her wherever she would go. Luckily for my mother she found a way out, and left my father - when he found out, he took an axe to all the furniture in the house and that was his way of splitting everything 50/50. 

My life with my mum and my step dad was fine. It was when my father would (if he remembered,  or wasn’t too busy with seeing different women) collect me for the weekend that my life was sad. 
He neglected me, he would often leave the house to go ride his motorbike or go to the pub or see some woman - all the while I would sit on the front door step waiting for him to return. 
It was only by some dumb luck that I would make a short walk down to the small mechanics at the end of the road and they would let me sit in there or someone’s teenage son would keep an eye on me.

When he did come home, he would forget to feed me - I can’t tell you how many times he told that story to people, who would also laugh along... ‘I forgot to feed you for 3 days in a row because I forgot you were there’.
If he didn’t leave me on the doorstep, he would take me to the pub .. and forget to take me back ‘home’ with him. I can still remember just sitting on the pool table just watching drunk men play, or sitting behind the bar. 

When we were ‘home’ he would abuse me in ways in which no child should ever be used. 
When he would finally take me home to my mum, I always had to tell these stories of what a lovely weekend we had and how many times we went to the park. The “Child Support” (£2 a week) he would give my mum, would be in 1p &amp; 2p coins and he would drop them on the floor them as he left. 

As I got slightly older, I would see “ghosts” - to each their own on this belief - and hear things that were not there. 
My mum would work every hour god sent to make sure we had a decent home life. 
Things became worse when my father met my step mother ... I was never allowed to be left alone, especially at ‘bath times’ - this continued into my 9/10 year old age ... I would be watched through the door as I bathed, be told that I HAD to be cleaned again by these adults who should have been caring for me. 

I’m thankful for my happy life with my mum and step dad, once I returned home on a Sunday evening (after being collected on a Friday evening) I could forget my troubles. 
I forgot to mention that at the age of 7, I had my first suicidal thought, I had written down that I wanted to die - but it was burnt by my mum and never spoken of again. I would return home on a Sunday always feeling ‘unwell’ and I would see more and more “ghosts” in the house. I was bullied at school, everyday, up until my 2nd week of being at college. 

Puberty was the worst, already knowing I was different (associating myself as gay back then as I had no idea what a trans person was). I hardly had any friends at secondary school, I avoided eating in the canteen and instead hid away in the library. At this point in life, we sadly had to move onto a very rough council estate. Being very feminine, I was always being told how I should ‘man up’ and ‘hurry up and make your voice break, people think they are talking to your mum on the phone’. My safety, was my room, I could only listen to music and play Halo on x Box over and over as I wasn’t allowed to use the computer. I have 4 half brothers, 2 with each ‘set’ of “parents”, my joy at my mums house came from playing x box co op halo with my brothers - that was my haven, until my step dad said I was a “threat” to them.

This broke my heart at the age of 12, they were all I had, we were poor so we just played ‘made up’ games in the garden or take turns playing halo over and over. So my life at my ‘week’ house was crap as I was picked on walking to school, at school, coming home from school and just sat alone in my room in the dark. Teachers didn’t care about bullies. There was one teacher who managed to save me in my later school years when it came to the dreaded P.E lessons, she let me sit in her classroom for the last 2 years of my school life or if she wasn’t around, she always organised me to be no where near the P.E lesson, it’s bullies and the awful P.E teachers. Despite my best efforts at school, catching up in the library when it was ‘break’ or ‘lunch’ time or staying after school, I failed miserably on my GCSE’s. 

In my teen years at my dads house, I was left alone a bit more - they had a son who was the ‘favourite’, I would arrive on a Friday just to be shown his new PlayStation or TV or ‘something’, if we did the ‘family shop’ he would pick anything and everything, I never asked for anything growing up, anything I bought, it was saved up from pennies on the floor or birthday money I would hide. 

I was “lucky” in a sense that in my teen years I was forgotten, I could leave the house and not come back until late at night or pretend I was at a friends house who didn’t really exist.
2 ‘family’ holiday stick out in my mind to this day. It was with my mum, step dad, 2 brothers and my S.D’s brother, wife and their brat of a son who was older than me - I believe I was 8 at the time. I remember being so frustrated to being compared to the oh so superior nephew that I asked if I could go swimming. But nephew wanted to go into town and do goodness knows what. The compromise was; I could go swimming (in the on site caravan park complex pool) while everyone else went out for the day. 
8 hours I was in the pool, no money, no lunch, no key to go back to the caravan. Just me, my wristband, my shorts and a very concerned looking life guard. 

My other ‘wonderful’ holiday, I must have been 14 or so - I had been lectured for days how being gay was a phase and I’d get married and have children ... I put on my swim shorts, left the caravan and went down to the beach, it was autumn and it was freezing. When I couldn’t stand the water any more, I just sat on a rock, it was just staring to get dark when this little old lady walked by me and asked if I was ok. 
That was the very first time that I ever felt someone care for me.  She made me promise that I’d ‘go home’ soon .... she left after a little while, all the while looking back and waving at me, until I got off the rock and walked up the hill back l to the caravan. The funniest part was, that no one had even realised I’d gone and missed dinner.  

When I started college, I bought all the materials myself as I had a part time job in a coffee shop. I loved it. I would pick up any hours I could just not to be at home. Often, I would just turn up and offer my time for free - this helped out as I could eat for free there and not have to worry about eating my mums food. I paid rent, I bought all 4 of my brothers school uniforms, and I even paid extra money to pay off bills. Still I was ridiculed in front of family members. I made a few friends at college, but soon found out that they were ‘experimenting’ because of my feminine appeal. 

Lots of things happened in between - I was thrown out, so I was forced to live at my dads house. Until I met a guy online, I was open about being trans and I moved in with him and his family. I was paying rent at my BF’s house and for a room I wasn’t using at my dads house. 
After a year, I was allowed to stop paying him rent ... after they had thrown all of my own bought room furnishings out. I was allowed to see my mum and my brothers again on a regular basis again, it was all getting better. I even got a better paid job. When I was 20, this should have been the wake up call to see a ‘professional’ , my BF had gone out with some friends and I couldn’t get hold of him, instantly I thought he was cheating on me (like all my short lived relationships had in the past). I drove to a motorway bridge about 3am, phoned again, no answer, sent a goodbye text And stood there for an hour just wanting to fall.  

I didn’t, I just stayed in my car over night until it was time to show up at work. When I asked my BF “what would you have done if I did kill myself”, the answer was “well I would’ve had to have dealt with it, but I was out with my mates”.
This became a regular theme ... I’m sorry, I missed out that I had a drinking problem from about 14, I would hide vodka in my room, get people to buy me stuff ... I also did try to kill myself when I ended up living with my dad before I met my BF, I had drank A LOT of alcohol and saved up plenty of pain killers - sadly I was just sick.  I tried twice more to end my life, but my then best friend took me to A&amp;E ... I truly still love him today but he is thousands of miles away ... Omg, more is coming back, I tried in college to .... got given anti depressants as I was so stressed my hair was falling out in clumps ... and a Pedo also tried to get me in his van ... the police officers who came round to my house had found out that he was parking outside of houses pretending to do building work ... my step dad did say that I was to blame because of how obvious I was. 

....sorry to lose track, me and my BF would do the same tired dance each time he would go out drinking - one night I had packed my bag and drove out in the snow and parked up and slept in my car, I have never been so cold in my entire life - when my bf eventually called he made out that he couldn’t remember where I worked to come see me (I was a supervisor at work and let myself in around 6am as I couldn’t stand the cold any longer) ... things settles down a bit, he got a full time job and stopped drinking on a regular basis, I started transitioning and all hell broke loose! My BF was the only one who stood by me, and 1 very close friend .... my family didn’t want to talk to me - I was trying to find a new job, for a ‘fresh start’. If I was home alone with my BF’s parents, they would say awful things to me, ugly, witch, just leave, your embarrassing. I ruined my BF’s brothers wedding ..... even tho I wasn’t invited, I still drove my BF 6 hours to the venue (after my 1st shift of a new job) I hid away in the hotel room until they all went off to the wedding. I spent 10 hours in a town I had never been to, waiting to be phoned to collect my BF.

Shortly after we moved out, it was an awful flat, no heating, but we made do. 
He started up his own business as he was so miserable at his job. The rent was cheap and I was working 6, sometimes 7 days a week. Again, a small blessing, I could bring food home so we never went hungry. Family eventually started talking to us again. I soon realised that I was working all the hours I could, and instead of having time with my BF, he would go visit his friends on my day off. We had spoken about getting married ... one day he just said ‘I just don’t think we should’....by this point, I was eating alone, going to bed alone and paying bills alone.

Then one day this guy came into the shop, we instantly clicked. He told me he was leaving a few days later so we swapped numbers. The last day he came in, I cried all the way back to my car. We met up a few times, I was honest from the beginning - we had 2 kisses and nothing more.  I found out he was married and he stopped talking to me.

Me and BF patched things up, I started working for him and we went to Vegas and married / just the 2 of us. We moved out to a much better place. About a year or so before, I had made a wonderful friend. She has BPD. If things were bad, her bf would bring her over and within a few hours we would all be laughing again. This was also the first time anyone had bought me flowers / her BF as a thank you. As time went by it became obvious that there was a chemistry between us.

The more I spoke to my friend about my own life and symptoms, she suggested to go and get a diagnosis. When my letter arrived, for a date to see a medical professional, my husband said nothing. I told my friends BF the date and I was going alone and he said ‘oh your not going alone, I’ll come with you for support’. Later that eve my hubby changed his tune and insisted he would come. 

....Skip ahead, yes I have BPD. It’s been getting progressively worse over the past years ... behaviours, past ‘things’ now make so much sense. I tried therapy .... until he bled me dry!
I was going to end it on that same bridge, but I couldn’t .... I had to tell ‘him’ I loved him. So I did, to my surprise we became closer - intimate. I have since moved over 200 miles away, but I miss him - when I ask if he loves me back, it’s complicated is the answer (this guy I’m referring to is my BPD friends, boyfriend)
 
Anyway I’ve strayed too far - I’ve never truly felt that my husband believes I’m “unwell”. We only recently told our friends and family. (I have not spoken to my birth father or anyone related to him in years, but he still haunts my nightmares).
Being borderline, gave me a sense of clarity, no matter how much self harm I inflicted. No matter how many times I would let out my problems. Life isn’t going to get better. Non “ill” people will never understand the constant pain each day we face. I can’t even pretend to me normal anymore. I OD’d last Tue morning, when I woke in ICU I felt so disappointed that I was still here. I was lucky to have lovely nurses. My mum and my favourite brother came to see me. And stayed at my house.

My husband now realised that I am unwell. But I still feel so distant from him and everyone else. I made an an online friend about 2 years ago now who is so sweet, he sends me songs. But why is it that my own spouse, after a suicide attempt and self harming today (I’ve only been home barely 48 hours) can’t help? Sorry to ramble on. I will try my best to reply to anybody. I just want to sleep forever, we put animals out of their suffering, yet why can’t a human? 
  
Slight edit on my previous version: I used to be so pretty, I never bought into expensive make up products nor could I ever follow a YouTube tutorial. I was slim (about 9 and a half stone), 5’6 have FF boobs and my hair was always looking good and I dressed nicely. (My friend told me that he never saw me as anything other than a woman and I was F’in hot) . Now I’m just a whale, I’ve gained so much weight, I’m over 14 stone, I have stretch marks, my hair is only ever tied up in a bun, I can’t remember the last time I wore make up, or when I was last told I was pretty. I’m waiting on an NHS GP referral / invite to allow me a few free swimming sessions - which I can’t wait for.
I am broke, and I have a husband who wants me to continue gaining weight, as he likes fat girls. 
(To each their own, but I was happiest in myself when I had my slim body)
A few times the conversation has popped up ... it would be really sexy if you just kept eating ... then ate yourself to death - then we would both me happy. 

My ‘friend’ told me once that if he could have his current partner and me in the same relationship he would be happy. 

I just need someone ... someone who wants to help me get mentally and physically better, so I can like myself again. 

Thank you for taking the time to read this ridiculously long post. In total it’s been about 4 hours now. 

Take care all of you, hold on to any happiness you find, as it will fade. 

