Hello, subreddit. I've been a lurker for a while now, and reading some of the topics up here has really helped me in more than one way, so today I decided I'd ask for some advice directly. 
Some background on me: I'm male. I had a couple of really bad relationships in my life, that I perceived as incredibly abusive at the time, not knowing that it may just have been me all along. Up until I had a relationship that lasted several years, and at some point I realised that -I- was the one responsible for most if not all of the drama in it. Realising how much misery I brought to the girls life I did the one thing I am proud of in my entire life, I actually accepted the guilt, took the blame on me and broke up with her because I was (and still am) convinced that she'd be happier with someone less fucked up. At that point I just felt like I was the worst person to exist on this planet, dragging out a fruitless relationship because it was convenient for me and using her for my bodily desires. I hated myself for wasting years of her life and projected that hatred onto her all the time, so the least I could do was make a clean cut and release her. I still think about contacting her again sometimes, but that's the last bastion of self-respect I've managed to maintain until today. 
I avoided letting anyone get close to me for a very long time after that (approaching five years in november) because part of me was afraid of what I would do to them, the other part was afraid of what they'd do to me. There was an incredible lot of self-loathing, feeling unworthy of being loved, feeling out of control and the usual "tidal waves" of depression about being lonely and wanting to isolate myself from everyone and everything. I finished my bachelor without making a single friend. And lost most of the friends I had until then because people just get fed up with the splitting at some point and leave. 
A year ago I was someone who was convinced that people with mental disorders are just huge assholes who slap a label on their forehead as an excuse for being assholes. And then I was told that I'm one of those assholes, and it radically changed the way I think about, well, everything. A lot of things make a lot more sense to me now. Like the mood swings and the extreme back and forth between adoring the few friends I still have and treating them like trash, sometimes while being aware of it but completely unable to stop or apologise. I've contemplated and re-assessed pretty much my entire life at this point and while it doesn't make all the bad things go away, I have managed finally forgive myself for the most part. 

Now comes the hard part. I've met someone who expressed moderate amounts of interest in me and my brain is telling me that she is "the one", that she is perfect and amazing and my perfect match but I'm painfully aware that this may very well just be the usual obsession I get when someone is unexpectedly nice to me. At this point of my life and with all the awareness I have now about my situation, I actually want to grant myself a chance at being happy but I'm incredibly afraid that all I will do is make her life miserable in the long run. I'd rather stay alone for the rest of my life than to hurt anyone like that ever again and I'm afraid that this thing will inevitably end up being a giant train wreck. But I don't want to fall back into the self-loathing depressive tar pit I've just crawled out of, either. 
I don't know how to realistically handle this. I am going to tell her about everything that's wrong with my head before I'd allow for anything to come of this, of course. It's the only fair thing to do, and if she decides to be smart and bail then at least I won't have any regrets. But what if that doesn't drive her off? What other precautions am I supposed to take? 

As a precautionary disclaimer: I've never physically hurt anyone I was in a relationship with. I do have violent outbursts from time to time but those are always aimed at myself (or inanimate objects) and they always happen only when there's nobody around to witness it. I also never physically cheated and I don't think I'm able to cross that line outside of very niche circumstances. Both of these things heavily violate my own moral code and I'd rather eat a bag of nails. But I am quite unbearable to live with from time to time, when particularly strong affection suddenly flips into the inevitable witch hunt of accusations and toxic doubt. I also lie about a lot of minor (and major) things, even if there's zero benefit, and I very heavily expect people to mind-read me, though I'm fighting to get that under control as of late.