Well, I was diagnosed with BPD almost six years ago now. I cried when the doctor told me I have a personality disorder, because all I heard was "there is something wrong with your personality". I cried when I found out there were no meds I could take to make it better. I cried when I found out you develop BPD because of the environment you're raised in.

Today I have been thinking about my parents. The people who raised me and are most likely the reason I have this diagnoses. And today I have come to the conclusion that I wish I had parents that loved me more than they loved themselves. The sad part is...they actually believe they are good parents. And sometimes they were...but that doesn't outway the screaming, the hitting, the personal attacks by my mom. It doesn't excuse th emotional distance my dad put between us.

I don't know how to cope with all of these things today.