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I find the rumination about my recent retraumatization to be the worst of all the symptoms. I wake up from dreams related to the situation and immediately have intrusive thoughts about it; replaying the situation in my head, thinking about my emotional reaction and feeling ashamed and humiliated about it, thinking about my former friends and their actions and feeling intense anger and frustration that these people I loved turned on me and "did this to me" (even though in their eyes, they did nothing of significance and I "did this to myself" by reacting so emotionally).

It's been two months and it's a constant, endless mental prison. It prevents me from doing much of anything. It keeps me disconnected from my ability to enjoy anything. Things I once loved (music, games, conversation, comedy, etc.) are just lifeless and I force myself to try and engage with these activities, but I'm left feeling so hopeless and broken; that I'll never be able to enjoy anything ever again.

The people I loved broke me. I had made so much progress over the years and had a group of friends that I loved and a music community that I loved being a part of. And in an instant it was all gone. And all of those people now hate me based on false accusations and my emotional reaction to the situation. It's too much to bear.

I would like to share my story if anyone is willing to read it. (Content Warning: mentions of previous suicidality)

I will attempt to be as brief as possible in my telling of these very complicated situations that first caused me to believe that I was BPD, and then later CPTSD, and now I'm unsure.

I'm a 35yo male. I've been alone my whole life. I've always longed for a partner (a rescuer), but have historically been more prone to isolate myself than I have been to actively seek a partner.

5 years ago, at the age of 30, I had a brief, very intense romantic relationship with a woman who was diagnosed BPD. She hid her diagnosis from me during the month that we were dating, but her behavior was very confusing. She displayed significant drug seeking behavior and even once accidentally said the words "my heroin." When I tried to have an honest conversation with her about it, she denied everything and stonewalled me. I became very upset, pleading with her. She began using her knowledge of BPD to convince me that I have it. It was only during her final blow; the-nail-in-the-coffin; that she admitted to being diagnosed BPD, as a way of saying that that's why she knew I was also BPD.

Her behavior during our brief relationship was very triggering for me. I did begin spiraling down and having outbursts. I was questioning my own sanity. She was gaslighting me, but my intense negative reaction; my own emotional dysregulation and my inability to return to baseline made me think she must be right about me having BPD.

I became suicidal (I didn't make suicide threats to her, or to anyone) and came very close to doing it. But instead I checked myself into the hospital and tried to talk my way into a BPD diagnosis. After 10 days, they insisted that I was not BPD; that I didn't "act like a borderline" and that they had never in their professional careers known someone to accurately self-diagnose BPD. They diagnosed me with Depression and sent me on my way.

It took me a long time to recover from that experience. I spent a few years ruminating about it, wondering if maybe I was BPD after all, etc. Eventually I came to learn about CPTSD. It made sense for me, considering that I had only really had that one intense relationship (not in-and-out of intense relationships) and had otherwise always been alone.

Then just a few months ago, after having built a good life for myself; a good group of friends; a good social life, etc., a woman within my friend group accused me of having "forced myself on her" months beforehand, in an e-mail with a laundry list of (what I consider to be) totally unwarranted accusations. I remember the encounter as entirely consensual and it stopped when she said that she "didn't want to go any further and ruin our friendship."

I initially responded with confusion and defensiveness, then followed it up with "I'm sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable that night."  She never responded. She and another friend turned their back on me by simultaneously leaving our group chat. That moment (abandonment?) felt like a thousand daggers.

I started unraveling emotionally. I spoke to a few mutual friends, all of whom began parroting her accusations, refusing to believe me that it was a consensual encounter. I should have gone into damage control mode but instead I just kept spiraling down. I should have done nothing at that point; just move on with my life and let the chips fall as they may. But I was so upset that I wasn't capable of doing that in the moment. What happened next makes me wonder "what is wrong with me?" and "am I BPD or CPTSD?"

I suggested to a few of my friends that I was going to kill myself. I packed up my car and I left with the intention of either killing myself or leaving and never coming back. My friends were blowing up my phone and I responded with vitriol. I was full of rage and I texted some really nasty things back to them. One of my friends had called 911 and the cops eventually spotted my car. I was forced to spend the night in the psych ward.

I got out of the hospital the next day and I was still angry at my friends. I left the area. I quit my job. I moved out of my apartment. Without any plan of how I was going to survive. These are all very impulsive behaviors. Eventually, unable to function, with nowhere else to turn, I moved back in with my parents.

It's now been two months since this happened. I certainly had an "episode" of some kind. It was emotional dysregulation; an emotional reaction that was disproportionate to the situation. I was catastrophizing and thinking in black-and-white ("my life is ruined," and "all my friends completely betrayed me"). I acted in a way that actually did ruin my life as I knew it and lost all of my friends.

Two months later and I still can't stop ruminating about the whole thing, alternating between intense self-blame for my reaction and anger at my former friends for refusing to believe me. But what-did-or-didn't-happen regarding the accusations becomes irrelevant considering that my own reaction to the situation caused so much destruction in itself.

I still can hardly function; can hardly get out of the house. I can't sleep through the night. I have nightmares related to the situation. I'm having difficulty concentrating and I feel like I've become disconnected from my ability to feel joy. I lost all of my closest friends, who I loved. All attempts at communication with my (former) friends only dug my hole deeper. I lost my band. I lost my ability to play music in the community. My reputation is ruined from both the accusations and from my reaction to them. It all feels so overwhelming and insurmountable.

I recently learned about C-PTSD and it fits so well with my situation.

I grew up with a controlling, narcissist mother and a spineless, placating father.  I always knew my mother messed me up but couldn't really put my finger on it.  Nor could therapists.  The several I have seen have all been useless.

Two years ago I was doing the best I had ever been.  I was 30 years old and I was coming into my own.  I was experiencing optimism and joy and confidence that took me 30 years to achieve.  Up until that point I had been single for almost my whole life, but I was finally in a place where finding a relationship was inevitable.

But I met the wrong person.  It was so passionate at first and it felt like I had met the love of my life.  She turned out to be personality disordered (Dx Borderline, but I think the real issue is NPD).  I was also concerned about her drug use.  I wanted to be loving and supportive but it didn't take long for the abusive behavior to start.  Within a month, she was gaslighting me and when I tried to have honest conversations asking what the * was going on she would just deny deny deny and turn the whole thing around on me.  Eventually when I started reacting emotionally to her abuse, she started suggesting that I was Borderline.  Eventually I came to believe her.  Maybe I imagined all the abusive behavior?  After all, she would know best since she is Dx'd Borderline, right?  (wrong)  She discarded me and started a smear campaign against me.  I almost killed myself at this point.

I checked myself into the hospital and basically tried to talk my way into a BPD diagnosis.  But the doctor's disagreed and said that I didn't "act like a borderline."  I just couldn't make sense of what had happened.  If I wasn't crazy then why did all of this happen and why did my entire life crumble?  I didn't really get any answers except that I was "depressed."

It's now been two years since all of this happened.  I have done a lot of soul searching.  I learned everything there possibly is to know about personality disorders and I eventually came to really understand that I am not personality disordered.  My mother was personality disordered.  This girl was personality disordered.  They're selfish, manipulative, deceitful, abusive, delusional, and they don't have the capacity for remorse.  None of these things describe me.

I'm kind and generous and honest and loving.  But for as long as I can remember, I have felt a deep pain at the center of my being.  I have felt unworthy and shameful.  I am self critical and quick to feel guilty and accept responsibility for things that don't go well.  I often feel like a failure.  My recent discovery of C-PTSD seems to explain my situation perfectly.

I feel like I missed my opportunity two year ago.  I feel so broken now that I don't know if I will ever be able to get back to that point.  I needed to experience a kind and honest partner and instead I got a personality disordered girl from *.  It feels like the final straw that broke the camel's back.

I've been grinding for 2 years to try to pull myself out of this mess.  I've made progress but some days it all feels pointless.  Today is one of those days.