The first time I remember breaking down because I thought I had been abandoned was when I was in preschool. My dad had died before I was born, I was and still am an only child, and my mother was, and has been single, at the time she didn't have a job. I only attended preschool part time, meaning I stayed in the morning and left before lunch and during nap time. I never had to nap sense I'd be leaving anyways, but one time my mom told me that she wouldn't be picking me up early today. I'd have a full day, no problem, why would it be? It wasn't until nap time when I broke down crying, refusing to seek comfort I laid in the corner against the bookcase imagining my mom coming to take me home. Other times I'd be terrified that when my mom went to go do some laundry(we lived in an apartment building at the time) that vampires would kill her and she'd leave me. I'd beg her to take me with her, she eventually stopped fighting it. Or the toilet would flood, I would have to stand on the tub and hold up a little part of the inside of the toilet while she went to go get the plunger. I burst out crying thinking she had abandoned me. 

When I started going to school I went to one of those morning/afternoon daycares. By that time I was going back and forth between my mom and my aunts, a day or two at my aunts, a day or two at my moms, and vice versa. I remember I'd be at daycare, we'd be outside on the playground and I'd be watching the parking lot, looking for my mom or aunt. If it was even a few minutes after their usual time for picking me up I'd break down, muttering that they forgot me. They left me. They don't care. But. Thats just normal little girl behavior. Right?

Elementary school went by without any complaint for the most part, a few break downs about being abandoned, but nothing unusual. Until 5th grade. My aunt had a neighbor, and I was friends with them but wasn't too disappointed when they moved away. Why would I? The new neighbors also had kids, and this time with a girl my age. We became friends but soon her older brother started joining in. Now I don't remember how old he was but I know he was older. He wouldn't play with us much, just sit on the swings and watch us, maybe make a comment now and then. But this changed when one day he pulled me to the side and told me that if I didn't go out with him he'd kill my family, I being only what, 9? 10? Believed him. I agreed and crawled back to my aunts on my knees, sobbing. My family still does not know of this. He use to make me go behind the shed with him, with his sister to watch, and he would try to make me kiss him, I would only kiss his cheek. I don't know what happened to them. My aunt moved away eventually.

Come junior high, I was growing somewhat of a temper. But I never let it show, only to my closest friends who I'd end up slapping straight in the face if they angered me some how. It was usually over something stupid. I remember one time my friend told me that at times she hates me. 

At the same time, my mom was diagnosed with BPD. I would do something and she would ignore me for days, lock herself in her room, slam everything she could reach, yell at me. I felt like she hated me. 

I learned about cutting in about 8th grade, and I started. I would cut all up my thighs, only in spots where people couldn't see. I would only be happy once I saw my blood. My depression had started by then, I'd lock myself in my room, I'd cut, I'd feel numb. I'd think of how I'd kill myself. I could just stop drinking water, eating. I could cut myself to I bled out. I could take pills. 

Thats when I started taking pills. I'd take as many as I'd need to make myself feel better. I'd steal them from my friends. 

I also started meeting people on the internet. I use to sext strange men.. As a 14 year old I just wanted to feel wanted. And I'd grow furious if they finished being done with me. I'd rage at what trash they were, at the dirt they made me become. I stopped. Eventually.

I started dating a couple of guys, not at the same time of course but they never lasted longer than 2 months. Not unusual for a young teenager. 

I went through therapy for awhile, but after my favorite therapist recommended me to a different one. He abandoned me. I still cant talk to him. I've seen 2 different therapists, excluding the first one. But I always drop them as soon as possible. I take medication for anxiety/depression and ADD right now. 

I know this is long, I am so sorry for that. And please bare with me as I try to finish this and get through this next part.

I started dating someone. I still am dating him. I love him. And he loves me. But early on in our relationship I made the worst mistake of my life. He started not seeing me in the morning before school, to go help his other friend. Understandable to anyone else but me. I thought he was leaving me. He was done with me. He hated me. I turned to one of my internet friends for help. In the month I had known him we had gone to eachother for relationship advice and he seemed nice. I don't know how it started. That volatile friendship if you could even call it that. He'd make me sext him. No pictures. Just words. And afterwards when I tried to tell him I was done with it, I didn't want to do it, he'd call me a bitch. A slut. A whore. When he'd message me it'd always start with "hey. hows the little whore." I hated him. But he'd threaten to leave. I couldn't handle it. I already thought my boyfriend was leaving, I couldn't have him leave too. No matter how much I hated him I did at one point count on him. At one point I did end it. I found the strength. He'd threaten me. Tell me someone will always be watching me. Tell me he's gonna kill himself, that only I can save him. That he was possessed by a demon. I havent messaged him since. I blocked him. I told my boyfriend, crying. We got through it. We're still going strong. Stronger than before.

Here are a few of my drawings, they express how I feel at times.
http://imgur.com/pX3koEY&amp;JmN3Flt
http://imgur.com/pX3koEY&amp;JmN3Flt#1

Feel free to ask me any questions. I just don't know where to go from here. I believe that I could have BPD but I'm too young to be diagnosed and I have a hard time talking to my mom because of my lack of attachment to her. What do you think?
