I’ll try not to write too much. I have a problem with that— anyways, long story short, my mom died two years ago. Five months later and to the present moment, I think I’ve been suffering from BPD. I may have had it longer but I can’t remember what my mental health was like before she died. 

I have essentially every symptom. I thought that why I do what I do is because I feel my emotions like they’re on steroids. ALL THE TIME. You guys know what I mean I’m sure. I have a favorite person. You know— the person who can make your day or break your day by as little the way they glance at you. My views on my friends and family— especially my family, can drift from I’m in a living hell. I need to escape the second I turn 18, and never speak to them again, to I love my family and am so thankful for them etc. I’ve got rapid changes in self image. Don’t even get my started. There was a particularly intense time a year ago where if my favorite person didn’t say goodbye to me at school, I would go home and hurt myself. I’ve suffered from self harm pretty bad, and often for a long time, but never bad enough to be hospitalized. I just hate myself SO much. I’ve got the reckless impulsive behavior. I’ve got the stress related paranoia like no other. The mood swings. Don’t even get me started. And the thoughts of suicide. They get REAL bad during my lows. 

I know that self diagnosing is wrong and VERY looked down upon. No one wants to be the girl who self diagnosed OCD because they can’t stand their desk being messy. I’m not like that. I feel this and fight it every second of every waking day. I’ve never been able to see a therapist or even be honest with my doctor because of my family’s religious beliefs. Also my mom was diagnosed with bipolar, and I know personality disorders can be partly genetic. My dad and step mom do not believe personality disorders are something people can’t help. They believe they can be fixed by prayer and following Jesus. Because I know I could never come to them for help with what I’m dealing with, I’ve hid it from them for years. VERY well. My parents have no idea my thighs look like a war zone. They have no idea what goes on in my head. They don’t have any clue that I think about my favorite person basically every waking hour of every day. I think I’m more “quiet” BPD. I have problems with anger, for sure, but I take it out on myself, and TRY to only express my anger in environments where I feel safe.

I only recently discovered what BPD really was, other than the bad stereotypes I’ve heard before. I’ve never felt so perfectly described by anything in my entire life. There are more people out there who feel at the intensity I feel and it’s almost exciting. I can get help for this! 

I just don’t know HOW to get help. I can’t have my parents knowing. Not right now anyways, maybe in a couple more years, when I leave for my third year of college. If they did know, they would try biblical counseling. Which is the LAST thing I want on the planet. I need real help. I just don’t know how to even start, or if getting help in secret is even possible. Can anyone relate to my situation? Am I completely nuts? I’m so lost...