The thing about BPD, Borderline Personality Disorder, is that it doesn’t give a shit about what you’re up to, how happy you are in your new relationship, how great your job is. It just comes in and takes in everything like a vacuum. By the time you dig it all out, it’s covered in dog hair and pieces of tissue and a lot of tears. And you’re exhausted. I’ve gone years without a depressive episode. Probably two years, but that’s still more than one. Why can’t I stop crying? Why do I want to die? This is terrible timing, BPD. I’m living out everything I ever wanted. Why can’t I ever win?