I watched my pills, I have many at home, just for my BPD treatment. I feel anxious from the morning to the moment I can fall asleep: stomach aches, tight throat, oppression. My partner: he refuses to hug me. No sex of course for more than a year. He doesn't love me. My pro life? LOL I'm jobless, depressed, borderline, not functional. I touch a little money for now, the half of what the rent costs (pfff). I try though. I follow help with an association. My family and friends are far. I'm not so sure they care anyway. They had promised to help me find the truth about my father, last year. I'm still not sure what happened before my birth, and who's my father. ..... .... ... .... If I want news I call. But no one ever calls. I'll spare you a long story about the other traumas, my mother dying young. My father being a psycho, my rape, my preg, my other preg and abortion. Nobody loves me. I feel like shit. I am shit. I had difficulties to concentrate. I really can't take it. It would be so easy. Take the pills and die.