I have two kids, a decent but demanding job. I have more than most, fewer than many. I've never been truly happy, and I am SICK to death of living with my disorders, which include Bipolar II and Borderline Personality Disorder. My meds always need adjustment, which is always a crap shoot. I can't consistently afford therapy, which does help. My kids (21 and 18) live with me and are completely disrespectful. The younger one has deep resentment for having to live with my disease and refuses to read up on the disorders to learn how they aren't my fault that I am the way I am. She seems to think it's a choice that I am the way I am. She tells me that I don't have a right to have a right to her respect because of what all I have put her through during her childhood. And she tells me that I don't appreciate all that she does for me. She refuses to go off to college because she feels that it's her responsibility to stay at home and attend college locally so as to prevent me from killing myself. She says her older sister doesn't care, and will leave as she has before, and only come back when she doesn't have anywhere else to go, and only uses me in that regard. My youngest graduated high school this year and I was hoping she would go off to college and live in a dorm, and that my oldest would get her life together and be living on her own. With that all done, I would be free do to what I really wanted, and that was to end my own life. Things didn't end up that way. Both girls still live with me, and I have to work my butt off supporting them both, being active in their lives still. Don't get me wrong, I love them, but I am just tired of living this life and I want out. And this was my year that I was so looking forward to. My youngest wants to be a psychologist specializing in addiction recovery. Meanwhile, she flat out refuses to read anything about my disorders to find out what makes me how I am. Instead she is angry at me for being the way I am. She accuses me of not taking my meds (which I do), and for being crazy, as though I have the choice to just stop at any time. She tells me I have never been a good mother to her because she's always had to take care of me, clean up the blood after suicide attempts, etc. She refuses to leave because she wants me alive, but she treats me like she hates me while she's here. I hate myself for having to live with this disease. I hate what it does to those around me. I have everything about it. I feel like I am getting worse not better, even with meds and therapy. I just want to die and be released from this maniacal prison that I have been sentenced to. I really don't care if anyone else around me likes me or hates me ... it doesn't matter in light of the fact that I hate myself. I pray for the day when I can shirk my obligations, feel that my kids are safe on their own, and just die.