(Potential triggers: Self harm, substance abuse, suicide, emotional and verbal abuse)

It's 2:35am on Monday. I'm exactly 24 —  In the past month, I've lost my job. Lost my friends (co-workers). And lost myself. I have suicidal thoughts, but no plans to follow through.

I will be trying my best to keep this as coherent and easy to follow as possible. Please excuse me if things get disorganized, I'm on two days no sleep right now. 

I was diagnosed with BPD in January of 2015, and have jumped from therapist to therapist. Always encountering the issue of opening up. It's not so much that I don't want to talk about these things, it's more so that my head is racing with everything I can't control, I can't handle, I can't process that I don't know where to start. So I sit there, meek, quiet, answering vaguely. Because I'm scared.

When my family learned I had BPD, they didn't know exactly how to go about it. How to talk to me about it. Growing up myself and my siblings long suspected something was wrong with my mother. She would often yell, throw things, verbally degrade, emotionally hurt, and always willing to remind you of your past screw ups. This was my childhood. To tie things together, the majority of this was towards me. The black sheep.  If I were to take a look back, I'd say my mother had untreated bipolar disorder. She didn't want to accept that something was wrong, and she struggled with it up until her passing in August of 2015. I am eternally grateful to have had been on good terms with my mother for the months leading up to her sudden death. I was able to say my proper good night, the night before. 

You see, this is the middle of my story, but is really the beginning of my struggle with Borderline Personality Disorder. 

I dropped out of college, against my father's advice and threw myself into work. Self harm and substance abuse became the new normal for me. Not that I hadn't been doing any of that prior, but it certainly ramped up from there on. I struggled with my feelings for myself. I hated myself for all the times I fought with my mother growing up, all the times I self harmed leaving permanent scars on my arms because of the cold words and reminders she'd throw at me. I resented, loved, and missed her so much. Not a day goes by where I don't think of her. It's gotten to the point where I'm forgetting what she sounded like. — Since her passing, my relationship with my family has deteriorated to the point where the only times I see them are during dinner, that is if I even am able to eat. I've developed a very bad relationship with my older sister. I love her, but she scares me. She's *essentially* taken over the role of my mother. Verbal and emotional abuse and all. She brings me down, and she brings me down hard. She doesn't forget, and does a wonderful job making sure I don't either. She's said some extremely hurtful things that have actually made me cry, something I struggle doing. Recently my Father expressed how much he felt of a disappointment I was. That stung. Bad.

For the next four years I would work my ass off, attempt to save money (and fail), in and out of relationships. I had a particularly bad one end close to my mother's birthday. I was struggling really bad. I couldn't control my emotions, I doubted my then girlfriend's every move. I didn't trust her, yet I loved her. The two years we had together had their unfortunately ups and downs, but that's normal right? She tried her best to understand me. She tried her best to care. And I honestly, haven't found anyone who has gone the legnths she had to help me like she did. But every good thing eventually comes to an end, and it wasn't pretty. As I said, I had been spiralling. She told me she couldn't handle it anymore, and that she had met someone and that we should break up. It was my first taste of abandonment. Looking back, I don't resent her for ending it. But I do believe we could've gotten through it together. I guess that's just me clinging onto the past. 

I continued working and would eventually become a Certified Nursing Assistant at a Nursing Home. The job was a double edged sword for me. I loved it and I hated it. I was able to do what I love and help others. And I was good at it. I had made the decision to disclose to my employer about my mental illness. Something I strongly regret as every mistake I made would always end up with the question being asked whether or not I was mentally fit for the job. Whether I could handle myself under stress. And I could, I still can. But everyone has their breaking point, and mine was last month. It ended in me losing my job. Something a lot of my old co-workers see not only as an unfortunate thing, but a good thing. The stress, the constant 16 hour shifts were eating away at me. I grew to hate my job, but I still loved helping the elderly people I took care of. 

We're finally back to today, Monday. In the past month since losing my job, I have entered the dating game again. And started the process of entering into therapy again. It hasn't been easy. Upon taking the evaluation over the phone prior to scheduling an introductory appointment I answered "Yes" to too many questions. I had an extremely helpful, informative, and opening discussion with a crisis counsler who visited my house and will be helping me enter into group therapy while I wait for an open slot for individual therapy. I'm scared to open up, as it's always been difficult. However it's a step in the right direction. 

I had mentioned I entered the dating game again, and I met someone who I truly believe is a wonderful human being. Someone I admire, and care for a lot. However, I have told her I have BPD, I don't know exactly how to handle that in a friendship, let alone even the possibility of a relationship. I'm afraid to open up to her, as in the past I've done so too fast and scared people away. Or I've been too slow and made things complicated because of my sudden changes in mood, behavior, thinking, or perception. I really like this person, but I'm struggling to control my emotions and keep things slow. I want their help, but I don't know how to go about getting it. I want them to know what entails dating me. I want their support. This is all a challenge I want to eventually face, but am too scared to. 

Relationships are complicated, confusing, scary, and yet I desire to eventually love and be loved again one day. 

If you've been reading this, thank you for taking your time to. This is the first time I've spoken openly about my mental health outside of a very very close group of friends. I had originally planned on making this my primary Reddit account for day to day usage, but because I needed to get this off my chest I will instead be using it to discuss my ongoing struggle with treatment and BPD. If you guys are able to provide me with any prices of knowledge, that means a lot.