I always feel like I’m different from others, that my mind is set on how love itself doesn’t exist or that it doesn’t matter what my actions are, because in the end, there is no meaning. I’ve been told that I’m quite a sadist, sociopathic, selfish, but am I really the bad guy if it’s without intention? But then again, what if I actually don’t have bpd and my whole diagnosis was a mistake? I don’t know who I am, I wish I knew who I was.