Please excuse ANY grammatical errors.

December 22, 1995

~Taimak's P.O.V~

I knocked on my other bedroom door. "Hey, if you don't want your parents to be suspicious of you being here, don't you think that you should hurry it up?" I asked my girlfriend.

"Don't rush me now. I'll be out in a little bit." I heard her say through the door.

"Okay. Let me also remind you that this is your event you'll be late to." I told her then walked away and went into my living room downstairs.

I waited downstairs for a while for her to announce that she's ready to go. I don't even know why it's taking her so long because her makeup and hair was professionally done. Her outfit was already chosen. So what's with the long wait? I'll tell you what, most women especially this women take all day no matter what! I heard the door squeak open. Yeah, I know I need to oil the hinges on that door.

"This door is squeaky as crap." Tia said as I heard her heels clicking down the steps.

"Yeah, I know. I was just thinking that. You look great." I stood up.

"Do I now?" She asked twirling around.

"Yes." I grabbed her hand as she twirled around more.

Then she stopped. "Tell me more." She said with a goofy grin.

I chuckled. "Come on, your family is probably already there before us."

She shrugged. "It's whatever. You look nice too." She smiled at me. "Let's go."

I grabbed my house keys and we were on our way. I hired a personal driver to take us and found out that Tia already hired one. We ended up sending that one for her parents, her brother and his girlfriend. Because of that, they probably already know that she's been staying here with me.

Tia and I made it official in October. We both have personal problems we are dealing with that stemmed from childhood. Hers is much different from mines. She didn't even want to tell me about it and didn't until last month. The reason is because her ex whom she dated in high school made fun of it.

We had a heart to heart and she revealed to me that she was diagnosed with Borderline Personality disorder at age eighteen and she was diagnosed with Post Tramatic Stress Disorder at age twenty-one. She felt telling me was important if we wanted a healthy relationship. She is right about that. I wanted to see how bad it got which is one of the reasons for me asking her to stay at my place. I wanted to see would I see any red flags and I only caught a few small things. Those things aren't alarming at all.

She tells me that it is hard for many people with Borderline Personality Disorder to form healthy relationships. Another thing she explained to me is that she was diagnosed with BPD when she started to get better. She knew something was always wrong and not normal about her since she was younger. She hasn't revealed any of her disorders to anyone BUT me due to the stigma that it carries. I'm not going to lie, when she told me about her BPD, I automatically connected it with Multiple Personally Disorder and thought those were the same things. That is not the case AT ALL!

The other reason I asked her to stay at my house is because we are busy people, especially her. She's always on the road or taking care of her studies, so time together is scarce. She's on Christmas break from school at the moment and it's a great time for us to spend time with each other.

We've both met each other's parents and since she and her parents will be here for the holidays, we thought we'd have our families meet during the holidays. Tia doesn't want her parents and brother to find out that she's here because they'll get the wrong idea. There is nothing sexual going on between us, our connection is more than physical. Tia has expressed that she wants to wait and I have self control so I can wait with her.

"What up with you? What are you thinking about?" Tia grabbed my hand.

"Everything." I said while exhaling.

"Care to elaborate?"

"Okay," I turned my body towards her. "Remember you told me about your disorders?" She nodded. "Well, one of the reasons I invited you to stay at my place is to learn more about your disorders."

"I know." She smiled.

"You know?"

"Yes, I know. As I said before, I have triggers and whenever I feel triggered, I will tell you so we can straighten it then and there or later on that day to give me some time to calm myself down. I don't want to lash out. I know that I've asked you before but I'll ask again. Is this going to be a problem for you?"

"No... I mean, it hasn't been a problem so far. Besides you've already explained to me that you have it under control for the most part." I reassured her.

"Do you also remember me saying that it comes in waves sometimes?" She asked.

"I remember it clearly. When will you tell your family about this? Don't you think this is something they should know?" I asked her.

She shook her head at me. "No, they'll just treat me different and wouldn't understand. They'll think I'm making it up. They already think I'm crazy and have thought that SINCE I was a child. I'm dealing with it how I should and doing what is working for me."

"I never asked you this but do you take any medications? Or have you ever taken medication. I never saw you take anything for as long as I've been around and you said that you don't know how to swallow the."

"No, when I was first diagnosed I had to crush them in my food. I started to relapse on my symptoms. I told my doctor and she thought I should stop and just to to therapy. I knew I needed therapy AND was told I needed it, so I ended up going YEARS later."

"If you knew you needed it, how come you didn't go to therapy earlier? You know, when you were diagnosed with PTSD years ago..."

She exhaled. "Honestly, I though I could handle it myself. I handled it all those years alone and got better without anything. But I found there was some things I just couldn't handle alone and because I had a hard time sharing my problems I didn't..." She shrugged. "I didn't want to be looked at as crazy being in all of these programs that I'm in. It's complicated and I'll explain it to you more in-depth another time. Write down all of your questions, ask me, and I'll answer. Just PLEASE don't mention it in public."

"I won't. Can I ask you one more question?"

"You just did..." She chuckled. "Go right ahead. Shoot."

"If your family thought something was wrong with you, how come THEY didn't have you checked out YEARS ago, when you were a child?"

"In denial maybe. They thought they could beat it out of me and then thought of me just being rebellious or something. I wasn't, I was REALLY going through a lot psychologically. It's a lot. That's it?" She asked me while fixing her braided afro.

"For now... Forgive me because I'm still learning what this is." I rubbed my thumb across the back of her hand.

She waved her hand at me. "It's totally fine. At least your trying to find out what this really means and not judging me OUT LOUD." Tia shrugged with a chuckle. "If you wanna know something, verbalize is pleases. People with BPD have a hard time with people doing that, especially when they are close with that person. I see it."

"I will and I'm sorry." I nodded again.

"Do you think our parents will get along?" She asked me after a few minutes of silence. "Do your parents like me?"

"They thought that you'd be stuck up but were wrong and they like you. As for our parents liking each other, I hope so. I don't know of a reason for them not. Either way, you and I are fine." I shrugged.

She nodded. "We should've gotten ready at my hotel room. This ride is taking forever and I'm starting to feel cramped." She shifted in her seat.

"With the amount of time you take to get ready, it would've seemed like a long ride regardless." I chuckled.

Tia looked at me from the corner of her eyes. "That's not funny. I had to make sure everything was right. I don't want to go outside looking like a fool and everybody judging me." She then paused. "Do I look fine?" She dusted off the imaginary dust on her dress.

"I just told you that you look GREAT. You look immaculate. You even agreed with me." I grabbed her hand. "There is nothing on you. You're good. I promise."

You see, that right there is one of the small things I've noticed. I have been reading up on PTSD and BPD and one of them, I can't remember which but usually people with it have a shift in self- image. Many times it's like she KNOWS she the baddest thus far while other times she would point out flaws in the mirror. Usually it's not verbalized, but I can tell being that I've been around for a while now.

We rode the rest of the way in complete silence. Tia just looked at the scenery outside with a smile on her face. She says that the trees and stuff makes her feel blissful. Our ride came to a halt and there are cameras flashing everywhere. I opened the door and stood on the pavement. Tia slid over out the car while taking my hand. This is our first public appearance together.

"Thank you." She pulled down her dress that hiked up from her sitting. Then she pulled her winter shawl closer to her body. "Why did New York choose this time to get colder?" She whispered in my ear. "It wasn't this fold when we left."

"That's why we should've left earlier." I sang- songed.

"This premiere is ran on CP time. Besides, THIS WOMAN is late and looking good." She chuckled.

"You do." I smiled for the cameras.

"You do too." She smiled. We took a few pictures then made our way inside.

"There's your family." I motioned as her brother glided his way over here with his pregnant girlfriend.

"Hey, young one and Taimak." He greeted and we greeted his him back. "I knocked on your hotel room door this morning and you didn't answer. Why is that?" Yasir asked his little sister.

"I was out all day getting ready."

"What about the other times? There is always an escuse. Lemme see what you gon' say this time. Go 'head." Yasir motioned.

"Why can't I just not want any company?" Tia squinted.

"Or it's because you don't be there."

"Maybe..." She shrugged uninterested.

"Maybe... As in... Yes? If momma find out, you gon' get a mouthful. You know how she is." Yasir shook his head.

"I don't care. I'm a twenty-three year old woman about to be twenty-four in less than two months AND I'm paying my own bills. If she ask, then I'll just tell her." Tia shrugged.

"Ahh, so you have been staying there. You just revealed it to me without knowing." Yasir laughed.

"No, I revealed it to you because I no longer care. It is what it is. Yes, I have been staying at his house. It's nobody's business but ours." She motioned between the two of us.

"Well, speak of the devil..." He cleared his throat as his mother and step-father made their way towards us.

February 1, 1996

~DeVanté's P.O.V~

I've been out of rehab for a few weeks now. now and feel better than ever. I have been going to therapy on account of Derrick and from a medical professional, twice a week I will say that being closed off is part of me but it's helping. I don't like the idea of telling someone every little thing about myself, but I have no problem telling someone how I think about them especially if it's bullshit. I'm just a blunt person and don't sugarcoat shit even if it's sitting in the toilet. The thing about going to rehab is that I don't want the public to find out about it but it seems as if the church already know.

I have also been spending a lot of time at church. I love church but the members gossip too much. I hear what they say about me and what I chose to do in life. Many of them are asking, how am I serving two God's at once? I've always served one God and the only God I know. Church folks are always judging other members but do worse things behind closed doors.

Shit, a while back, I saw a few of pops church friends at a strip club and they are married. You don't see me talking shit about them. A lot of these people that talk about the music I make are the same ones listening to it too. I made some mistakes, I'm sure they made mistakes at my age too. It's just that my mistakes are shown to the world where everybody knows and record it.

Other people on the other hand make mistakes and can easily get past those mistakes simply because they aren't recorded and told to everyone. They don't acknowledge the fact that I'm trying to turn myself around. They just like to talk about the bad. I'm trying to right my wrongs and the ones I can't turn around I'm learning to deal with.

"God grant me the serenity
to accept the things I cannot change;
courage to change the things I can;
and wisdom to know the difference."

This was a repeated quote throughout my stay at the rehab facility. I did a lot of fucked up shit back in the day that I now regret. Now I can feel that regret since I'm not self- medicating as I was before. I'm still learning that some of those things can't be reversed. I went too far.

My parents are trusting me alone with the baby for the first time. DJ a pretty good lil dude. He's about to be six months in a few days. I couldn't even spend the holidays with my family this year and didn't get them anything like usual. It was my baby brothers first Thanksgiving and Christmas and I wasn't able to be there. Yes, we celebrated in rehab.l, but I wanted to be with family more than ever, but I also had to get better.

"Junior, remember that he eats every two to three hours. Check the temperature of the bottle by squeezing a little on the back of your hand. Make sure you burp him after each bottle or he will have an upset stomach and throw up. He ate about an hour ago so the next time you feed him it will be five. Wrap the diaper-"

"In a bag to make sure the smell don't spread. And make sure he goes to sleep by seven. Yeah, I know momma." I nodded.

"Come on Mary, this boy got it. He's been around long enough. We will be back by the evening of tomorrow. Everything is written down on a piece of paper sticking to the refrigerator. You need anything, call us." Pops told me and they both left out of the house.

"Doot, doot, doot, doot!" I said making him dance. His face scrunched up and he started crying loud as hell. I meant this is by far the loudest I heard him scream. His cries sound like an ambulance siren.

"I guess you don't like that do you?" I asked him. "Shhhhh... Shhhh... You too small to be soundin' like this." He grabbed hold of my eating and didn't let go.

"Shit! That fuckin' hurt man!" I said grabbing his hand but he wouldn't let it go. It took me a while for him to let go. To too it off, he still sounded like a siren.

I bounced him on my knee still attempting to calm him down. Ear sore and all. "You hungry? Let's make you a bottle. You cry too much and too loud. One extra bottle won't hurt, will it?" I stood up and went into the kitchen. I sat him in his high chair.

"Sit there and don't move. You hear me?" I told him over his cries. "Damn, you sound just like Dalvin." I shook my head.

He started slapping his hands against the table part of his high chair. "Ayyee, we don't do that here. Don't rush me." I shook my head at him. He started laughing at me. "What's funny?"

He started screaming and I covered my ears. I went up to him and started screaming too. "Yeah, you don't like that do you? Nope. Then don't do it to me. A'ight?" I held my hand out and gave him five.

"A'ight then..." I went back to where I was previously and started making his bottle.

"How many of these little cups of formula he need?" I took a look at the paper on the refrigerator. "Three."

I fixed it, warmed it up, and gave him the bottle. "Oh, shit!" I took it from him and he started to cry again. I poured some of the milk out of the bottle onto my hands. "It's a little too hot. You can't have none now." I told him.

His little arms reached for the bottle in my hand. "Here you go." I moved it close to him. When he almost grabbed it, I snatched it away. "PSYCH!" He started yelling and I joined him.

He stopped and looked at me like I was the problem. "What? Don't look at me like I'm crazy. I'm just doing what you do!"

DJ poked his bottom lip out and hit me dead in the face. "Did you just hit me!?" I yelled out in a playful tone. He started cracking up and it was cute. However, the reason wasn't cute at all. "That's funny? Huh?" I playfully hit him back and that made him laugh even harder.

I played with him just like that until I figured his bottle cooled down. I checked it and of course it cooled down. "Here, don't tell momma though. I know you just had one but this here is between the two of us. You got that?" He didn't pay me no mind, he was too busy drinking his bottle. "Yeah, you got it." I chuckled.

I just can't help but think of what it would've been like if Sherie had lived, had the baby, and it being mines. I wonder would it be a boy or girl. It's crazy that this all occurred in September. FOUR MONTHS AGO. Four months ago, I would've never thought I didn't need pills. Someday, I want kids of my own. I want to raise my children with my wife together in the same household just like my parents.

"You done? That quick!?" I chuckled and took the bootle from him and out it on the countertop. "Dayum!"

I got him out the highchair. We went back into the living room and I bounced him on my knee to the music. The song was 777-9311 by The Time. He laughed then puked all on me. "Come on now? What I do now? You really threw up on me!" I wiped his face, sat him in the playpen, then went to change my clothes. Of course this little dude cried all while I changed.

"I'll be back!" I yelled out the door at him with my shirt covering my face.

After I finished I returned and picked him back up. "You spoiled as hell. Momma and pops babied you. They used to leave Dalvin to cry it out a lot of times." I walked to my room.

I noticed he had the hiccups but I don't know if I could give him water so I let him hiccup. "No more dancing, I learned my lesson. You not messin' up my shit no more. Let's watch TV. You gon' let me be great or what?" I turned on the tv and laid in the bed. I did wake up super early today. I ended up going to sleep with DJ laying on my chest. I was in the middle of the bed just in case...

I woke to DJ cooing and the smell of stank shit. I felt warmth dripping down my stomach. The moment I looked down, I was disgusted. "OH, HELL NAHH!" I laid him on the bed and jumped up. "So we shittin' on people now? How the hell am I gon' do this?"

I automatically called Derek. "Get her NOW!" I yelled through the phone and hung up. "Yo, you really laid on me and shitted! Now we both here just stankin'!" I scrunched up my face. I grabbed some wipes and a diaper to change him. Mid wipe, I heard the door open. "Derek, get yo ass in here right now!" I yelled out.

"What is goin' on?" Derek asked me. "Oh, shit!" He looked at me. His girlfriend was here too.

"Literally." She shook her head.

"CAN YOU HELP ME INSTEAD OF JUST STANDING THERE!? GAHHDAYUM!" I yelled. "Y'all handle him while I shower. Look at this shit, it's all on my sheets and everything!" I walked out and took a shower.

When I got out Derek was in my room, sitting on the bed. "What's with all the lotion bruhh? You got enough to make a store?" Derek laughed.

"It's for you and all the rest of the ashy mothafuckas!" I laughed and snatched it from him and put some on.

"Pshhh, ain't that much ash in the world." Derek laughed.

"Where's DJ?" I asked him.

"In the living room." He pointed.

"I feel like we ain't really talked in a while. How's it goin'?" He asked me.

"It's going good. Never better except DJ taking a watery shit on me." I chuckled. "Everything is a process. I'm still trying to figure some shit out."

"What shit? The one DJ took on you?" Derek chuckled.

"Nahh, I still don't want to stay here in North Carolina. I'm thinkin' about movin' all my shit from New York to Atlanta. I want to see a whole new scenery. Plus, Puffy and them on that shit. I'm not trying to be around that. I'm moving me and my label to Atlanta. It's going to be dope." I told him.

"You been thinkin' this for a while, huh?"

"Hell yeah, I never imagined myself staying back home with my parents under strict surveillance. I feel like a fuckin' child again. I learned my lesson already and I'm bored here. I can get a therapist in ATL and everything else. Dalvin, K-Ci and Jojo already there so I'll have support from friends and a family member." I explained.

"If that's what you wanna do, then do it. Just know that if you revert back to your old ways, I'm gon' be the older brother." Derek told me.

"What?"

"Pops gon' get you." He told me.

"I won't, I don't wanna end up like so many other celebrities. Strung out on drugs, and all the other shit. Plus, I'm not trying to die. I had more chances to live than many people and I'm not gon' play with it." I reassured him.

"Okay." He nodded.

"That's it?" I asked him.

"Yes." He nodded again.

"Then get the hell out! Nigga I'm only in a damn towel and we havin' a whole conversation like I'm not." I told him and closed the door behind him.

February 2, 1996

~Tia's P.O.V~

"So when we're you going to tell me about your condition?" Mrs. Johnson asked me. "Your other condition Borderline Personality Disorder?"

I stayed silent for a little then answered truthfully. "Never."

"So why did you?"

"Taimak brought it up. He said that if I were to tell nobody else that I should tell you. I thought about it and he was right."

"Why didn't you tell me before?" She asked me.

"I don't know. I g- I guess I just didn't want anybody to know." I shrugged.

"Why don't you want people to know?"

"They wouldn't understand. They'd look at me and treat me different. I don't want that. I've already been looked at different by my family without telling them what was really up. I don't want the whole world doing it too." I explained.

"If you don't tell them what's going on, how will they understand it?"

"I asked myself that and decided that I'd just leave it alone. For the most part, I have it under control. Well, my PTSD has started back since that incident back in August." I told her.

"Are you angry at your brother for that? Do you blame him?"

"No, I'm not angry at him but more at the situation. It wasn't nessessary. If I was ready, I would've done it myself. I wasn't prepared to do that. I have to prepare ahead of time for big moments like that one. So yes, I was pissed at the situation and him at the moment." I could feel anger rising throughout my body.

Mrs. Johnson wrote down something in her notepad. "You said that you always knew something was wrong. How old were you when you acknowledged that?"

"I've ALWAYS known, but I acknowledged it when I jumped out a moving vehicle. I was seventeen at the time. I was at an Honor Society meeting for the next class. I called my brother to come pick me up with my friends phone. I was angry that he was late so I decided to go outside and he was there. He yelled at me, telling me how he waited all this time. He'd usually call back and say he's outside. He yelled the whole time, I was already upset.

"So I opened the car door, and jumped out. I had on a dress, heels, and my feet were hurting and I started to walk home. I eventually got back in the car and when I got home I was still upset and it was hard to calm down. All that is what triggered a bunch of other things but that argument being the root of it. During that time it was March and in Indiana it's still freezing around that time. I stood on the balcony with a dress, cold and all and thought about jumping off. I fought so hard with my head on whether I'd do it or not.

"It was a lot but I looked back on there were little things that ticked me off. One thing was my shirt not coming off the hanger and lost it. I was so calm before that then I yanked at it harder and harder off with full blown anger, ripped it, and slammed the closet door. I used to dig my nails into my skin when I was being chastised. It got worse when I hit puberty. Everyone looking from the outside in thought I had everything together but behind closed doors it was everything but. I was always socially awkward.

"I didn't know who I was, and even wore the facade- created a whole persona for my family. I became what they wanted me to be, then and the people outside of my family. Like peers and whatnot. Throughout the day, I'd be that persona and by the time I'd get home, I felt depleted. There was a deflation of that created persona. I felt like everytime I went out, whether it was to school, or a family members house, after getting home and going to my room I'd let it all out.

"I gave everything just to make it through the day, by the time I made it home, I had nothing left for me or my mother, step-dad, and brother when I saw them. Besides self-harm, the other way I'd cope would be through writing down who'd I'd be the next day to be like or just apart of something. Those ideas told me who to be because I didn't exactly know how to be. Ye know, conform to what I think other people want from me. It began to know at me- eating me up from the inside out. It was torturous to my well-being. I needed intense distraction to escape what happened to me.

"SOMETIMES I still have to remind myself who I am. It's like during that point, I NEEDED other people to regulate me. The relationships- well the few relationships I had at the time with those few people is what I put my all in. The feeling of getting close to someone is similar to breathing. It was like you're here and we're close so you won't leave me and if you do I'll die. When those people did leave for one reason or another I'd be at rock bottom. Separating from people I was once close too felt like everything was over. It was like I only lived to be there friend or to the only guy I dated at the time girlfriend.

"It was a lot to deal with and I just knew it wasn't normal. Simple things. I just wasn't myself or who I TRULY wanted myself to be. My mother and brother would joke and say something was wrong with me and they didn't see it get too much out of hand. Little did they know, I was fighting that. For a normal person they'd respond regular to small things but for me I was emotionally vulnerable and respond very sensitively to things.

"If things happened to me in public, I'd wait to get home to let it out. I'd let it out on everyone but who actually created my anger because I still wanted them to keep that little perfect perception of me. So that is another reason I'd go straight to my room after school. I didn't want to explode. Regulating myself became hard. My emotions would get to intense that I didn't know how to deal with it. My body would be hot in an angry manner and self-harm was my only option.

"I was finally in control of something I did and didn't have to have a persona to do that. I felt powerless and would constantly think suicide was my only option. It was almost- NO it was like I was infatuated with the thought. Another time, I just- I just couldn't find a pencil and because of that my homework would be incomplete. Teachers LOVED me and I didn't want them to change what they thought of me.

"Because I couldn't do my homework, I grabbed a knife and held it against my stomach to the point I bled. Then moved it to my throat and held it there for a while then I just dropped it.
My highs would be too high and lows would be too low. It was like I hated myself for a long time and when I finally began to like myself, I wasn't sure. Eye contact was hard for me as well. Whenever people would look at me, I'd automatically interpret it as those people judging me.

"I was actually relieved when I was diagnosed because I felt as if I belonged to something and now I knew what was wrong. The way I interpreted things are not reality and what I had was a chemical imbalance that could be fix- it IS being fixed. I'm sorry of I'm everywhere but right now I don't exactly feel... Right at the moment. " I finished.

"Feel right?" Mrs. Johnson asked me and I nodded. "Explain that feeling."

"I-I can't right now. I will say that back then that I met all criteria for BPD but now not so much. I've gotten rid of the fear if abandonment, worthlessness, self-harm, feeling empty, impulsivity, and I'm more in tune with reality. I still have work to go on the other things but there's progress." I told her.

"It'ss good to hear. You do know that with your diagnoses, it's VERY important to get your emotions out or you can relapse?" She wrote in her notepad.

"Yes, ma'am."

"I think our time today is up. I'll see you Monday, right?" She asked me.

"Yes ma'am." I stood up.

"Hey, wait. Before you leave, do you know about the ice method when speaking about something traumatizing?"

"I have, I learned it in a group sitting, but I don't think I need to do that anymore." I reassured her.

"Are you sure?" She asked with raised eyebrows.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Okay, drive safe." She waved at me. This time I decided to go to her office instead her meet me at my house. It was refreshing to say the least.

Author's Note: Her being BPD surprised y'all, huh? At least most symptoms are in control. That was a cute moment with DeVanté and DJ!

Word Count: 5,680
Please feel free to like and comment. Feedback gives motivation, and motivation urges me to continue to write. I'll update when I can.

Thank you all for taking the time out of your day to read another chapter of this story. Thank you for staying despite the slacking.💚🖤❤💜💙💛