So let me introduce myself, my name is Lauren and I have been diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder about a year ago after being falsely diagnosed as having Bipolar disorder. I am 20 years old and have been battling an addiction to self harm since I was about 12. I have struggled with an eating disorder for 2 and a half years and have been recovered for about a year from that. My recovery from an eating disorder took the form of replacing my obsession with being thin to an obsession of being fit and am proud to say that I am now a Bikini Competitor in many fitness competitions, I have used that status to be a role model and spokesperson for women fighting eating disorders. I am still currently, however, fighting my urges to cut, and every now and again I find myself giving in, my new favourite place to cut is the back of my neck as I have long hair and I know that nobody will ever see it, then and I can continue my charade as somebody who has overcome a self mutilation addiction. 
I was adopted at birth, and therapists have speculated that during my mothers pregnancy, her desire to rid herself of me by by either abortion or adoption became ingrained into my subconscious and has resulted in my now desperate fear of abandonment. My adoptive family likes to play the role of the Brady Bunch yet behind closed doors it is much, much different. My anger issues are usually triggered by my parents dismissive attitude toward my problems and a notion that any negative emotion cannot be expressed, it is not allowed to cry, nor feel upset by anything involving another family member or become angry. We are "The Brady Bunch" after all, a happy family where us children are not allowed to be upset by each other nor another member. For instance, my brother made fun of my eating disorder and when I spoke up about it to my parents, I am told to "shut up" to "fuck off" that I am "impossible" and that I must "get over it and leave it alone" etc. Which either results in an angry outburst of "why does nobody take my feelings seriously? I am hurt, acknowledge that, I am upset, listen to me!" or bottled up feelings which then become self inflicted wounds on my body. 

Again, keeping with the "Do Not Tarnish Our Happy Family Image - Or Else" situation, one of my most traumatic arguments with my mother occurred when I was admitted to a psychiatric clinic as a suicide risk  at age 17. When enrolling in their program, there was a Q and A a doctor performed with me in front of my mother while she was filling out forms. One of the questions being: "what is the relationship you experience with your parents?" my answer was "it fluctuates" well, that only led my mother to an infamous angry outburst in front of the doctor "FLUCTUATES? HOW DARE YOU! WE HAVE A BRILLIANT RELATIONSHIP YOU LIAR, HOW DARE YOU TELL HIM THAT IT FLUCTUATES?! TELL HIM THE TRUTH, TELL HIM HOW HAPPY WE MAKE YOU, YOU LIAR!" I suppose her response gave the doctor more answers than the Q and A ever would. Typically Borderline, I then felt a short lived sense of relief when she left followed by an intense fear that she may have left me there and won't visit me. 
My mother also goes on "Lauren-free vacations" when my emotions become "too much" for her to handle and my father sends her on little "getaways" so that she can relax away from me. I have actually grabbed a knife in front of my parents and attempted to cut myself in front of them once in a desperate cry to be heard after my brother called me a worthless piece of shit and nothing was done: "I'm upset, will this make you understand? will this make you listen?" It was after that episode that I was admitted to see Dr Opperman who diagnosed me as a borderline.

A diagnosis that my parents believe I should "just get over."