So...I had the chance to be "cared for" and took it (before I was diagnosed BPII and could rationalize with myself). I quit my job, packed up my stuff and walked away from my life. Now I feel like an ungrateful little troll because I'm still not happy. Everything is a trade-off, right? I hated the real world....scrounging for change to eat...so depressed I could barely function.

My boyfriend takes care of pretty much all of the real-world stuff I hated. In exchange, I now live a secluded, sheltered life with a slightly controlling person. To tell you the truth, sometimes I hate it, but then I remember that I don't want to deal with the real world, either...I moved out at 16...worked..college...modeled...was married/divorced. Very brutal childhood...took care of my Mom (blackout alcoholic). So when the chance came up, I took it. Now I feel totally dependent.

You're not alone.