Yeah I pretty much said it all. I could be totally wrong but seriously, #mentalhealth #mentalhealthawareness #anxiety #bpd #adhd is everywhere. How does one tumble through life and social media with this crippling 💩 and never go "Hm, I think I might have a problem. I wonder if it has a name and If I can do something about it." Don't buy it.

Edit - Backstory that might explain why am such a "smug" POS as some commenters said: I live with a woman who is now my ex. I gave her everything, she drained me. In 1½ years she managed to turn me into a quiet, depressed shell of my former self. She figuratively and literally gave me less and less space, she smothered me. I watched and helped her train her rescue dog (punishment-free, positive re-enforcement which is awesome but basically a part time job) so she can live her dream and work as a tattoo artist in her own studio which is great but I wasn't allowed to have my own life. I don't have money but helped her with everything I could offer help with, I wasn't only her emotional support but also basically her tech support, found her a neat laptop for dirt cheap when her old one broke so she could do her college stuff, invested many hours in finding her the perfect affordable, user friendly camera that suits her needs so she can up her professional social media game (which she wanted, not me, no pressure), patiently gave her the most efficient run down so she wouldn't feel any expectation let alone pressure to get into photography/videography as a hobby (which I knew was essential), hours and hours of massaging her polyneuropathy-strained limbs and back, cooking whatever she wanted to eat no matter the time of day, made my staple pancakes ("from scratch" of course) whenever she needed them, the typical boyfriend errands at that time of the month, carried tons of furniture for her, I did everything. I was a musician, painter, cartoonist and wannabe cinematographer (unsuccessful but hey, who's counting) before we met but I was expected to work around her schedule and be the perfect boyfriend and give her all the attention so I won't lose her affection and attraction while she obviously was allowed to have all the flaws and wasn't under any pressure to treat me with decency and empathy. There were months when I didn't sing or pick up my guitar even once. I remember hiding in my room, curled up on the floor, crying and shaking after one of her splits and having to comfort her in the end. I always did. All those double standards, most noticably her lack of empathy, for example when I wouldn't have sex once, cause I had stomach issues. She was genuinely mad at me for not giving her my body and simply did not accept that I had stomach issues. She studied to become a teacher and knows enough about BPD. I know she does. The whole mental health awareness thing is pretty big in her bubble. I thought this kind of back story doesn't need to be layed out in all detail so that I can just vent and not be lectured or insulted by every other comment. I know I am wrong in all kinds of ways but please. Please. Consider there might be more to the story, I can accept criticism, also harsh criticism but the hate is just too much.