To start off, BPD isn't the only acronym under my belt, but also ADHD and CPTSD, along with depression. This has happened twice to me now and I can't find anything online about it, so I was hoping Reddit had some anecdotes. If I had to choose, I would blame my BPD for the following, but I'm honestly just guessing.

The other day, my (31F) bf (31M) was frustrated at work (from home), and when I came home he vented to me about it, while being angry *at work* and very upset by a meeting he just had with his supervisor. We were supposed to go shopping to prepare for the snow storm that was to hit this weekend, but he said he was too busy and needs to work. I go to the grocery store alone, kissing him in the forehead before I leave in support.
I'm okay with this. I'm a very independent person and I am used to being on my own. We've only been together a year and living together for several months. I don't mind this task.
What is bothering me is his anger. In my heart, I know his job is hard and stressful and his bosses treat him like shit. I understand. But I am *triggered*, and I have told him this, by outward and overt expressions of anger, especially by men. I shrink into myself so tight my soul cannot breathe. But I have been working on myself for *years*, Reddit stranger, I have been trying *so hard for so long*, to recognize myself, to learn my trauma responses and to *notice* when I am collapsing, and I think to myself, *I recognize that this is bothering me, and it's not his fault, and it's a trauma response in me, and he's not mad at me he is mad at work, because work is so so hard and /rude/, and to remove myself from that situation. Everything is fine. You are normal. 

I get home and start unpacking groceries. He comes out, feels a change in my energy. He has childhood abuse superpowers himself, and knows the mood is different in me. He asks, 'whats wrong?' and I say? 'wrong? That's ridiculous, I've never been wrong in my life' and he doesn't listen, he doesn't *listen*, and asks again. I say 'nothing's wrong.' I put the pasta away. The wind whips at the window, covered in plastic. He needles me, what's wrong. I'm weak. I wear, saying 'nothing was wrong, but now you've annoyed me into something being wrong, so now you made me upset and are now upset at me for being upset', because *that's what my brain says happened, and still does?*. He goes to his room quietly.

Then comes back out when I'm sitting on the couch. Says his piece. Uses "COMMUNICATION" and says he doesn't like that I spoke to him that way, and that obviously something is wrong, and he knew it, and something something all my masking and pretending, the effort it takes to put on a smile and say *oh no it's fine*, the bile that rises in my gut when I play the *I'm normal, like everyone else* self because if not you get thrown out of the tribe and eaten by sabre tooth tigers; and big smart brain interprets it as, and I quote, EVERYTHING YOU HAVE EVER TRIED HAS BEEN FOR NOTHING, YOU CANT DO ANYTHING RIGHT, YOU CANT EVEN PROTECT THE ONES YOU LOVE, *FROM YOURSELF*, 

I say okay to bf, and he gives up, goes back to his office. I wait in silence for a few minutes, emotionally shocked into my 'work face' mode a little longer. *'Well, today was a bust. Let's try again tomorrow,* I say and turn off all the lights, heading to bed without a word. I'm still trying to be a rational meatsack of neurons.

I wake up SO MANY TIMES with bad dreams, *nightmares*, my voice *SCREAMING* into the emptiness of our shared room. He's on the other side of the house. He doesn't hear. I'm drenched in sweat every time I wake up. It's a blizzard outside, but Im untouchable inside. I stay warm with all my blankets. Bf doesn't come to bed until at least 3am.

In the morning, after twelve hours asleep, or what you could call waking up constantly for twelve hours in bed, I get up in such pain. All my muscles hurt. I can't get warm. I whimper with every step. I have to go to my volunteer shift at 730, I missed it last week and I'll miss it again on Thanksgiving. I search my medicine basket for my prescription pain pills, sobbing when all the orange bottles aren't the right ones. The pain is so bad and I'm desperate for pain relief. Eventually I find the baclofen and choke it down with bf's half-drunk pop from the night before. I almost gag it up, coughing until I'm loudly choke-sobbing. If he was awake, he would hear. He doesn't come check on me. I leave.

Reddit friends, this went on too long, but I wanted to hail-mary all the possible symptoms so if anyone had any insight, they could enlighten me. I spent the entire next day in terrible achey pain, shaking whenever the slightest breeze touched my skin. I left work because the heat was out and the space heater didn't cut through the bone-soaking chill. I went home and passed out in bed, tucked under three heavy blankets, soaking in sweat all day as I swam in and out of wakefulness. I never felt a fever in myself. My stomach was low-level nauseous. I couldn't imagine eating anything.

That night, my bf took care of me. We had an open heart to heart, and I explained everything in this post as best as I can in person to him. I fell asleep in his arms still shaking and weak and in pain, but the next day I felt better. I ate food. I would have went to work, if I didn't have a snow day.

Did I make myself sick? I can't afford a doctor if this is just my brain being ridiculous. If this could be like, endometriosis or fibromyalgia, I'll go and get checked out. I've just never heard of this and was wondering if anyone had any input. If you stuck with me this long, I appreciate you in whatever part of your personal journey you're in right now. Much love, and thank you.