This is my first foray into BPD-literature. At times it felt like too much--like there was too much difference between Kiera's story and my personal one--that maybe I was misdiagnosed, maybe Kiera was. But I kept reading and while clearly our lives differ, so much of the emotion she was describin...
I've never wanted to be done with a book before as much as I did with this one. It's not that this was terrible, aside from the several typos (they happen to all of us), I just couldn't get myself to 'like' Kiera very much. I understand bpd, I just couldn't relate to being so helpless and need...