BPD

I went to the doctor yesterday. With clothes and jewelry on at 3pm, I weighed 113. I was initially excited. Usually I weigh myself naked, in the morning. Yesterday in the morning I was 113. So I knew I had lost weight, and I smiled inside. The nurse took my blood pressure. High. She waited and took it again. High. Not a walking stroke, but abnormal. My doctor, who I adore more than life, came in and said, "Whats going on with your weight? You've lost 7 pounds since I last saw you." I lost it. I started sobbing uncontrollably. I told him how I was so depressed. I told him about work, how I felt I had no control over my life. How i've ruined my life. He looked at me and said, "Im not licensed to make this call, but I'd bet, I'm 99.9% sure, you have BPD (borderline personality disorder)." which is not something I haven't heard before. I was first diagnosed at 16 in a mental hospital, but never got on meds or in therapy. Apparently he told me I can be helped. That bc I could recognize that something was wrong, that I could be helped. He said 1 out of every 100 women have this. He asked, "Do you ever call Travis 'A fucking asshole?'" again I lost it, like every day, I said. People with BPD often blame their husbands for "making them this way." some women even beat their husbands. I'd never done that. But I do admit that I verbally abuse Travis, it usually ends up with me crying and apologizing the next day, and that my doctor says is good.
So long story short, he wants me see someone. There's a book called Walking on Egg Shells he wants Travis and I to read. About living with someone who's BPD. He said he thinks it'll help me understand that I'm not Alone, to have something to relate to.
So that's the update. It's weird, I want help, but not help with Ana. Control my mood swings. Handling my emotions, yes. Gaining weight? Not an option.