My quiet but destructive bpd and ptsd.

I'm not ashamed of it. At least not as ashamed of it as I used to be. I'm sure anyone would agree bpd is a bitch, and gods is ptsd a plague. Constantly feeling the ups and downs of whether someone hates you or not, then splitting on them even before getting to know them. Being so judgemental and moody- but I mean, I don't feel, for the most part, or I didn't before. Now I feel things a little too much since allowing myself, but fuck, sometimes I wish I didn't again. I used to stare at people, guessing what they thought. Not knowing how to love genuinely aside from the mask I used constantly. Not allowing myself to be sad; it always burned when I cried anyway. Not being scared of the future, even hardly smiling if at all. I felt nothing, the majority of the time. Now I just feel everything too much; I've got so much guilt for being a surviving oldest child. Being supported by others, even just feeling comfortable. It's all too much; I wanna revert so badly, but I know I can't. I dunno if any of this makes sense; I know I'm rambling. It's almost the end of my 12 and its 6am. Ggs.