I’ve read that BPD can get less intense with age (though I haven’t heard anyone vouch for this). All I hear in that, is that it never goes away. It’s really hard to know that for the rest of my life I will be having to be overly cautious of my thoughts, my feelings, and my behavior. That for the rest of my life I will be a child trapped in an adult’s body…a body that continues to age, and a mind that does not. That I will always be a risk to others, if I am not careful in controlling myself. That I will always experience episodes of sobbing while being curled up on the floor with a stuffed animal because the pain is so unbearable that I get urges to harm or kill myself. That I will always have to work through mental processes simply because someone didn’t reply to my text right away, say “I love you too” quickly enough, or because someone made too neutral of a facial expression that it triggered me into thinking that they were unhappy with me, and were going to leave. To realize that I will forever be that “girl” that’s afraid to be alone, yet afraid to be with people, afraid to be left and forgotten; abandoned;…isn’t a very good realization.