What Was The Point Of Successful Failure?

I cried tonight. I never cry, I shouldn't give in, I'm such a fucking failure!
Scared the fuck out of my new boyfriend.
I'd been slightly dissociated all night, when i first got there, he kept asking 
if I was okay, and I kept saying that I was fine.. but then I was pretty zoned out within minutes of falling apart so wasn't able to properly reply when he was asking what was wrong.
He's scared I'm going to hurt myself.
I really want to hurt myself.
I said it was only likely to get worse over the next few months or more..
He said he'd never going to leave, however tough it gets.
I don't know what to think, what to do..
What was the point of surviving it all; 
of fighting this most of the year, every year for 11 years.. 
to live like this; 
to feel like this, 
to still remember all of this.