Before I was diagnosed with borderline personality disorder (BPD), my life was already hell. I was raised in an unstable and violent home.
A white collar broken Victorian. I too, was a wide-eyed and lively child in the beginning, but after our family home suspiciously burned down things really went off the rails.
Nothing was for certain and everything was on fire. I started glitching. My position as the family scapegoat hardened which would set into motion my eventual early estrangement.
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