I'm so sorry. I have felt this way too. I started off so promising. I graduated valedictorian of my high school class, graduated summa cum laude with a B.S. in Microbiology (grades better than many pre-med students in my major) from one of the largest universities in Texas, making straight A's and only one B in Physics II. I went to graduate school and got an M.S. in Cell & Molecular Biology, a less prestigious school, but the department was still well thought of. I published a couple of scholarly articles in pertinent journals, one of them being a first name article.

After graduate school, my life fell apart.

Well, in truth, I had anorexia and anxiety in college and was diagnosed with major depression then. When you have an obvious eating disorder, it seems to trump all in getting help for your mental illness and also the right diagnosis (bipolar vs. major depression).

In graduate school, I was paid peanuts and didn't have insurance. I had to go to a state-run county system that had pay on a sliding scale, and they put me on about every drug under the moon. For about 10 years, I was on anti-depressants, and really, I feel like they messed up the wiring in my brain, and I will never be that person who graduated first in her high school class ever again.

I got pregnant quickly once my husband and I tried. He has a Ph.D. in Physical Chemistry and at the time had a great-paying job at NASA (which of course was downsized). I tried working 2 or 3 times and nearly every time ended up in a psych hospital with depression, mania, or panic disorder. My pdoc finally straight out told me taking care of the house and our daughter (she's got a ton of sensory issues) and not working was what she felt was best for me. She was a good pdoc; I saw her for 10 years, she never did lie to me about anything. Now, my husband had trouble finding work, being overs-qualified for most jobs and can't get an "in" in the university world because his university let him graduate with a Ph.D. and no first author publications except for his thesis. In the university world, it's publish or persish. So now he teaches high school. Finances are tight. It doesn't pay much at all, our insurance is horrible, and I feel so guilty that I cannot work and contribute to the household income. I haven't worked in over 10 years. And, of course, his income as a teacher puts us above poverty level and I don't qualify for any national or state aid programs for health care or mental health or anything even though BPD is considered a disability. Believe me, I have tried time and again to get government help, and there is nothing to be had for me.

I am not suicidal, but I have had similar thoughts to yours. Sometimes, I feel it was just be best if I didn't wake up from sleep, or I'll find myself thinking, "What is the point? Wouldn't my husband and daughter be better off without me?" I find myself feeling pointless and like a weight upon our household, one costing a ton of money with all the pdoc visits and medications and not even contributing much at all.

Sigh...but sometimes, sometimes, I get on a med combo that makes me fell better and even at times stable. I know it is possible for me because I have had it happen (even if just for brief periods), even if it often feels out of reach. I just pray for that stability and know things don't always have to be so bad.

Have you talked to your pdoc recently about your feelings? When do you see the doc next? BTW, I'm been in the mental health system 20 years. I wish I could say it gets easier, but honestly, it hasn't for me. It's not just BPD; it's life too - deaths, parenting, traumatic issues, ugh!