I have been trapped in the confines of my mind with BPD for what seems like a lifetime. I am hurting so much and don't know how to tell people. I feel like I am wasting my breath. I am asking them for help constantly; no one helps me until they see the cuts. My mom constantly berates me an invalidates my feelings. I can never do enough; I can never be enough for her. I strive to gain her approval but never reach the bar. I am a failure. My dad doesn't care about me and has been emotionally distant my entire life. He is a recovering alcoholic. I have a one year old son whose father is a very dangerous alcoholic.My most basic instinct is to protect my son, when I can't do that I feel like I have failed the only thing I am supposed to do. I can't talk to my boyfriend about how I feel because he has alot of stress going on and I don't want to add onto it. I feel like he doesn't care about me; like he only needs me around to dispel his loneliness, but in the process I feel more alone than ever. I can't breath. The only thing that keeps me alive is cutting myself. I just want my boyfriend to genuinely love and care about me. I want my mom to stop complaining about me and realize I am always trying my best. I feel so under appreciated by everyone. I always try to make everyone else happy because I am so depressed and I dont want anyone to ever have to feel like this. I just want it all to end; I want it to go away. I want so badly to give up. I don't want to hurt anymore. I want to not feel all of these feelings. I hate BPD. I don't want to be like this. I wish someone could help me. I am drowning. I want to be loved and not fear that someone will abandon me or reject me. It hurts too much. Why can't someone care about me like I care about them? Is that too much to ask? I am useless and unworthy of love. I am a monster because of the scars all over my body. I am a burden to everyone. Can someone please help me? I can't do this anymore. I feel so broken and desperate. The loneliness hurts me. I feel like BPD has taken over my entire existence and somewhere in the recesses of my mind the real me sits crying, screaming, trying to get out and live. The feelings of emptiness and loneliness consume me. They are a vice grip that I cannot escape. All day long I dwell on the fact that before bed I can cut myself. I can see my skin weep red tears. I deserve this; all of this. I want to die. BPD has taken everything from me, I don't know how to escape it. It even has a voice; the voice of my BPD is the voice of everyone I love, they all hate me and berate me. Its tearing me apart.  