My Life is a Pill Organizer

Hello blog; its been a while. I don't remember what my last post was, and honestly I didn't look to see, so lets get up to speed.
I lived in Norman for a year or so with a significant other; we broke up last summer and now I've lived in Edmond for a little over a year. I have a new circle of people I interact with, a new significant other, though he's always been there in the background so it doesn't really feel new. While in Norman I finally braved facing a psychiatrist and got my diagnosis. Bipolar type two. Along with PTSD and some heavy anxiety. For the  last two years now I've been treating these issues. Most days I can cope  with it all but it's boiled down to my entire life revolving around a pill organizer and  all the medications I fill with it. Everything from my anti psychotic, to sleeping pills to pills that stop the nightmares...most nights. I've been going through the stages of grief, only I've been grieving for the person I could have been. Someone with no confidence issues. Someone who doesn't get a panic attack driving somewhere new. Someone who got out and explored her surroundings instead of the girl who stays home when she's not at work because it's easier than new experiences and opening up to new people. Someone who wasn't afraid of letting people in. Because to be honest, I can be a social butterfly but it's all an act. I'm actually terrified of letting anyone see who I really am because in my past that's been too much for a normal person to handle. I'm too much for most people to handle, and I hate that about myself. I hate all these things about myself. I can't seem to find a way to love the person I am, though life would be more enjoyable if I could. I know I need to reach a point of acceptance but that's hard to do, you know? I look at my boyfriend, and I envy his ability to genuinely love himself first and foremost. He's never struggled with image issues, and though he's a bit rough around the edges he lets people in. He doesn't dish himself out in moderation, he delivers it all or nothing. And most people choose all. I know I did, and the friends I have now did. How do you wake up every morning and love the person you see in the mirror? How do you find happiness in being yourself? For a long time I was in denial about any of this in myself. I've been depressed over these thoughts, and now I'm just angry. It's not fair. And it may sound like a pity party, or a pouting fit, but goddamnit it's not fair. I wish I didn't have to deal with this shit. I wish I could see myself in someone else's eyes for just one day. Am I as much of a mess to other people as I am to myself? I feel like I have to climb a mountain every day of my life and even when I reach the top I still feel low. Am I always going to be this way? I'll tell you what I see when I look in the mirror. I see pimples. I see fat. I see buck teeth. I see bags under my eyes. I see sadness. I'm sick and tired of seeing all this every morning when I wake up. I'm ready for it to change but I don't know where to start. All the negative thoughts overwhelm me and it's all I can see. And sure I can talk to my mom about all this and get some reassurance from her. And sure if I told my boyfriend any of this he'd tell me that's dumb and not true. But you know what? It doesn't change me. It doesn't change me tearing myself apart piece by piece. It doesn't change the fact that I'm broken. I'm terribly broken and I don't know if I'll ever be a real, whole person. I hope to God I will be one day. But something has to change for that to happen. Right now, I don't know how to relax. I don't know how to have fun. I pretend at it all, and it's getting harder and harder to keep it up. I'm broken and it's all I see. Logically I know that there are upsides to me. I'm good at my job. I love teaching pre-k. I can be funny and witty. sometimes I even feel pretty.
But those days are few in number. Most days lately I just feel restless and broken.
I'm scared. I'm scared I'll never learn to love myself the way other people love me. I'm scared of staying in one place for too long because what if everyone else wakes up and sees how broken I am? Nobody would want me around if they saw all the things I see. I don't know why it hasn't happened yet, but I feel haunted by the idea that it will. That everyone will leave me because I'm beyond repair.
And I'm just so sick of feeling like this. I thought getting the anti-depressant combined with everything else would make me a happier person. But I'm realizing it's going to take more than my pill organizer to make me whole. I need to talk to someone about all of this. I just can't find the words to explain it to anyone around me. I don't even try because who could understand it? I don't even understand it.
I'm so angry. Just...sick and tired and angry.
I want to be better than this. I have to believe I CAN be better than this. I need to find a way to accept myself as I am, to accept all my broken pieces and my flaws and the person they form. I have to find a way through these fears, or I'm going to be buried alive.
I started going to group therapy. I go again this Saturday. Maybe I can start there. Maybe someone there will understand what it's like to feel broken and helpless. Because I don't think anyone else can.
And the real kicker is, I don't know if I want to tell anyone around me that this is what's going on under the surface. I don't want to bother them with my personal issues. But maybe that's just me being afraid to let anyone close enough to tell them all this. I don't know how to begin to open up. Maybe that's what I'll talk about in group. I guess I have to start somewhere. I can't go on hating myself like this.