I've more or less been in remission for BPD the past couple years, with only occasional flareups. For the last year and a half, I hadn't been in therapy or on medication and still managed okay, but since moving to a new city in the spring, my stress levels have shot up and I've been relying more and more on marijuana and alcohol to self-medicate.

My ED also got worse. I started fasting a lot, eating as little as 600 calories a day. I lost 10-15 pounds a month for a few months straight. A few weeks ago after an incidence of street harassment, I flipped and have been having one long binge episode since then.

About a month ago, I started going to a new therapist and wanted to get back on meds. The clinic I went to, however, was against prescribing meds in all but the most extreme circumstances. They wouldn't even let me meet with the psychiatrist. It was also the only place I've found even remotely close that took my insurance. (I have to walk an hour to get there.)

I saw the therapist four or five times and brought up every time how much I was struggling and how much I needed medication, but every time she just said she had to check with her supervisor and nothing happened.

Last week she said she would call me after she spoke to her supervisor, and when she didn't I knew it was bad news. I also had some other major stressors in my life the past week and have been running low on pot so I couldn't self-medicate.

(I also don't think she took me seriously when I said I was diagnosed with BPD. I'm usually really good at masking my symptoms, so that wasn't surprising.)

Yesterday, I started self-harming in a big way. I bit and dug my nails into my arms and legs and burned a few times. I needed to do something to relieve the stress, and if I wasn't going to get any meds, I didn't see the point in trying to hold out any longer.

I had my appointment today, and I brought a lighter with me. If my therapist told me I wasn't going to get to meet with the psychiatrist, I was planning burn myself with it right in front of her. She did, so I did. I was only planning to hold my arm above the flame, but I was so worked up that I stuck my arm right in the middle of it. There was a huge black mark on my skin afterward. It's probably the worst single burn I ever gave myself.

After that, she called her supervisor, and I explained all my symptoms and why I wanted meds, and I got an appointment with the psychiatrist an hour later. I talked to her for about ten minutes and she wrote me a prescription for Risperdal. (My pharmacy had to order it, so I won't start until tomorrow.)

I fucking hate remission. I know giving in to BPD will completely destroy my life and all the progress I've made, but it's exhausting trying to keep my demons caged all the time. Five seconds of giving in to what I actually feel was more effective and A LOT more satisfying than a month of doing things the right way. 

I really don't want SH to become a habit for me again, but struggling on my own all the time is hard. I hope the meds help because I'm at the end of my rope.