I have DBT tomorrow, of course I don't want to go, I don't feel like I'm getting much out of it outside of a chance to share some stuff with others who seem to relate -- which yeah, would be great if I didn't feel like the group leader hated me for it. Usually I'm inpatient every three months or so, but it's been since February and I don't think I need it right now. I stopped drinking on my wife's insistence and started taking Antabuse - which I completely hate - so there goes that crutch. Whatever. I'm alive. Now apparently just earned yet a second college degree that places me no further into a space I'd think I'd be able to work a job or anything. My one saving grace is my daughter, I guess... probably the only person I've ever loved unconditionally & felt it given back - but I sometimes feel like she's doing that "walk on eggshells" (God, I loathe that expression) bit with me, like I'm someone who needs coddling. I don't want her to feel like that. But the reality is, she'll probably feel like she's either going to have to take care of me someday, or cut me out of her life completely. When does it end? Really don't know, and right now don't want to. This post is pretty crazy looking, I'm sure, but I'm just venting. Tomorrow I get to act all together and talk to a bunch of faculty members and students about writing, lives, careers, and philosophy, so I may as well let the tap off the psychosis and air it out slowly so it's doesn't explode all at once onto the wrong person. There. That's my check-in. Hi, BPD. Nice to see you're still with me after all these years. (Sorry for the "no introduction"; I just needed to vent, and this thread seemed appropriate.)