Requesting Relationship Feedback (BPD/BreakUps)

I hate heartbreak. I hate it with a passion. I am writing here so I can get an objective response to a very turbulent past two years that I spent with my ex whom I am very deeply still in love with, but who I am no longer with. I feel like I'm dying inside. Please give me feedback if this is in your eyes, for the best, or if I have spiraled into making the worst decision ever.
To start with, you should know that I am a 27 year old female in California with a professional job in the medical field and a graduate school degree. I was born in a country in Southeast Asia that traditionally engages in arranged marriages within their own race and caste (my parents were, and expect that of me). Though I was born there I am very much Westernized as I was raised in Canada and the USA (Florida and California). Some other tidbits that will be relevant to this story are: I had a brother 3 years old than I, and my parents and brother left me in another country for 2 years with my relatives before they decided to come back for me. My brother battled cancer for 10 years before he died of Non Hodgkin's Lymphoma when I was 17, the summer before I left town for college. I used to get straight A's. My father always controlled me. My parents refused to hear about my dating life as they wanted to set up my marriage. I got int a prestigious graduate school program for my job (#1 ranked in the nation) but it was not quite as prestigious a career as my parents wanted me to be. I even became the Director of my department with a 6 figure salary, within 6 months after graduate school but that did not impress my parents. I have always been insecure of my worth to others.
Skip forward to age 25 when I met the most handsome man I have ever met in my life at a coffee shop. He had glowing bronze skin, deep dark eyes that stared into my soul, full lips and a strong jawline to match an even stronger set of broad shoulders. He had an athletic build that rippled underneath his clothing -- 6 pack abs, muscles in his arms I never previously knew existed, and masculine, defined legs. When he smiled, his face dimpled and his eyes gleamed. He smiled at me, laughed with me, and talked with me for about 6 hours that day we met at the coffee shop.
When I met him, he was a healthy 30-year-old male that could joke with me for hours, whom I had an amazing chemistry with. He was ambitious, affectionate, and honest. Within 6 months, we were in a relationship. Between the day of meeting and beginning to date, a few hurdles were thrown our way but we worked past them. He had been previously married and had 2 children, which my parents disapproved of. He had also recently been diagnosed with Non-Hodgkin's Lymphoma, the same cancer my brother died of. I couldn't bear to see him go through that pain, and my parents wanted me to leave his side but I could never imagine doing such a thing. We worked past our troubles, and even had a fake wedding. We were already planning for forever. I got his name tattooed onto my side. We had rings for each other and already told people we were husband and wife. Butterflies, rainbows...my life had never been happier.
Then came that summer. I got into a 3 car collision and had a seizure upon impact. I was started on a dose of 1000mg of Keppra daily, an anticonvulsant that would keep my brain waves normal (they were abnormal on the EEG). My car was totaled, my driver's license was taken away as they felt it was due to me having a seizure, and then within a month my loss of independence had led me to become depressed. I was earning less money, felt lethargic and moody on Keppra, gained 20 lbs on a 5'2" frame within 3 months (when I had been the same weight for 10 years). I had anger outbursts where I would throw food and items at walls or my boyfriend, when I had never experienced that behavior before. Soon enough, instead of changing my meds, I was told I had depression, borderline personality disorder, and was put into a 2 month long daily psychotherapy program. That led to lost wages, having to be on Medi-Cal, get food stamps, and short term disability for severe depression. I was the most pathetic, fattest, poorest, most emotionally lost version of myself.
While my boyfriend had finished chemotherapy and undergoing radiation due to terminal stage 4 cancer, and while I was on a cocktail of anticonvulsants, antidepressants, earning no income and in a daily psychotherapy program at a hospital for my "mental illness," I came up pregnant. Turns out anticonvulsants lower the efficacy of birth control. I had so many toxins and medications in my body that were teratogenic for a growing fetus, no wages, my boyfriend had terminal cancer and had sperm that could have been affected by both chemotherapy and radiation, so ultimately the pregnancy was terminated. They put an arm implant into my arm that put hormones into my body to prevent future pregnancies. I became more and more depressed as the year wore on. I isolated myself, gained more weight, grew resentful of my boyfriend, grew resentful of my parents, and couldn't hold down my previous job. My life had crashed and burned to a low I never thought was possible. I had lost myself by the time my 27th birthday rolled around.
Although our first year was difficult, he went into remission and we came out as a stronger couple, deeply in love, and ready to face the world. Eventually, after he met my parents he asked me to move into his house with his kids and his mother to help me save money on my student loans. All of my previous rent money was to pay off my loans so that in a year or 2, after we were married, we could buy a house together with a low interest rate. I was thankful of his proposition, and moved in. This is when I turned into a monster.
I should mention here that my ex has an unusual ability to see what people are doing on their phones. I don't know how, all I know is that he could pull up texts from my phone deleted years ago. This led to him finding out my father was having an affair, that I was unsure about living with him and searching for apartments, and that my parents were still arranging my marriage while I was dating him. All of this, understandably, was a lot for him to bear.
All the progress I had made in therapy seemed to have been lost when I moved in. During these months I had barely any work so I would watch his kids sometimes (I volunteered to do so). Somehow, in my brain, after years of living alone, I had only been accustomed to paying for, taking care of, and cleaning up after myself, all in my own time frame. My parent's relationship had internalized to me that a woman that stays at home is the man's slave, was worthless, and would be cheated on due to the power dynamic. I was wrong, but that was my flawed thought process. So slowly, angrily, I began making remarks about how I didn't enjoy spending all the time I did with his kids, even though I was the one who volunteered to do so. I would become irritated when the kids would fight with each other and call him at work. When he would ask me to clean, I would threaten to move out, angrily accusing him of wanting a domestic slave and not a partner. When he told me he didn't feel I was contributing enough financially, I got on the defensive and cried, feeling broken down, unappreciated, and like I was some useless burden to him. In this process, I also made him feel unappreciated and defensive. It was a mess. I loved him throughout, but our life together had turned us both into frazzled, angry, hostile roommates. Eventually, over a simple argument regarding a dress I packed for a trip together (he told me it wasn't a practical dress to wear to a park), I got so frustrated and hopeless that I exploded. (the following is a hazy recollection of our last fight)
"You're always trying to control me," I proclaimed (it wasn't true). "My dad always tries to control what my mom wears. Stop trying to control me! That's it!"
He had just gotten me breakfast in bed, at a hotel he had paid for, and grew angry back at me "I was just joking with you. I can't even say something like that without your annoying voice getting defensive with me," he growled back.
I stood up. "ANNOYING? Oh I'm sorry, is my voice too ANNOYING for you because I want to stand up for myself?!" I shrieked. "Do you not want this ANNOYING VOICE in your world any more?"
He seethed and responded "Shut up. You don't have a voice in my world."
This was the most appalling thing he had said to this date. "Fine. If I don't have a VOICE in your world then I'll put all my things in storage when we get home and move out. You'll never have to tell me to shut up, or to deal with my annoying voice ever again!" I cried, miserable and hurt. He grit his teeth, also hurt that I managed to turn another "good weekend" into "drama," and he agreed. This was the day I moved out, and we broke up.
That was a week and a half ago. I moved out, went home to my parents, searched for a new apartment and job. Awaiting the results of that search as I type this.
In my chaotic, lonely week of hating myself, hating him, and trying to figure out what was wrong, I decided this person I had turned into was not me. It just wasn't. I am not a person with an anger problem. I am not a person that wants to take medication, or hormones, or be "dramatic." I certainly did not feel like a person that had a mental illness, seizure disorder, or problems loving someone. I felt that all my problems must have been caused by my medications and birth control hormones. I know that sounds crazy to those that are reading, but I knew inside this person I had turned into, I was better than her. I was better than emotions, recklessness, mood swings, anger and destroying those I loved most.
That week, I got my doctor to remove my hormonal birth control implant in my arm. I had already gotten weaned off of my antidepressant completely. I got my neurologist to approve going from 1000 mg / day of Keppra to 250 mg/ day over a period of a month. Eventually, by the end of this month, I will be all myself, with no hormones or medications impacting my emotional regulation or self image. I am hoping my boyfriend will see this, but he has told me due to me moving out so rashly, leaving him and his children behind over a small argument, calling his children baggage in a fit of anger (which I regret to this day because I love his little angels), and essentially abandoning him, he wants no contact with me until almost 2 months from now, September 21st, 2018. He says he wants to find someone who can love him better, and not leave him over something small, and someone he can trust. I agreed that I had done him wrong, and that I only want happiness for him, but that come September I hope his happiness will still be me and he will reconsider his / our decision to part ways while I work on myself.
Before going no contact, we have said we both loved each other despite moments of hating each other. I didn't tell him how I was eliminating all my medications as I knew he would be scared for me or thinking I was making a poor decision. But my parents know, my doctors know, and all have approved/ are monitoring my progress. I have already lost weight since my implant was removed. I already feel more happy and hopeful of the future.
My question is this: Though it seems I was in a toxic relationship, do you think this is a relationship worth salvaging? Do you think all hope is lost, and if not, do you think my ex was displaying any negative behavioral patterns toward me (i.e. demeaning comments, calling me bad names in anger, not liking what I wore all the time). OR do you think everything I am seeing is a function of my flawed perception of reality? Am I really the only wrong doer here?
I'm already getting job offers at highly ranked hospitals throughout California, I function very well in all of my friendships outside of this relationship, I don't do drugs or drink alcohol (haven't in a year or so), my parents get along with me, I am generally easy to get along with all. Though I have had some therapists say I'm extremely "borderline," others say I'm extremely high functioning, not borderline at all, not depressed, and that I'm shoving medications in my body that are harming me. I'm biased to believe I'm healthy but in this relationship I just can't tell.
Who do I believe? Please give me some insight. Thank you in advance, as I am uttlerly and completely lost in this life, especially having just lost the love of my life and his beautiful children. HELP.
I'm not sure which category this post falls under, I will try to place it into one regarding relationship advice, getting things off your chest, psychological conditions, or heartbreak. I appreciate any comments but please do not post any comments that are judgmental, racist or political. Thanks.

at times our anger n impulsive behavior blinds us to the damage we're causing other people.

in a fit of rage i broke a globe (showpiece) that my late father had bought. n there were so many outbursts where i've fought with friends n my caretaker n the entire world. if while walking someone would brush their elbow past mine i'd get angry. it was like i was proud of my anger.

i also lost 2 years of my life due to my anger issues. had a chance to study in germany but my anger bereft me of the time to prepare for it n when the time came to fly i got panic attack. went to germany, returned in a week as the anxiety was draining my mental energy. n then i did twice i applied but couldnt gather courage to go. now i'm in a mediocre uni with a tougher course n tougher job prospects.

i'm not as impulsive or enraged as i was earlier.

i think u should give ur ex n his kids the space they are asking for. at least for now. i've deleted contacts of my friends though i desperately want to call them n beg them to stay in touch. n i know after 10 mins i'll start hating them n paint them black.

once the two or three months have passed you can write an email to ur ex. maybe dont expect to return to the earlier stage of ur romantic life. give him time. it has to grow again. depending on what he wants. but give him time.

i dont know about ur ex but i also dont believe we're all bad. i dont think anyone is completely bad. its just the wrong time or the wrong emotions are released at the wrong time before the wrong person.

ideally when u were unwell there should've been someone to help you out. like some relatives or friends or even a nurse. else it gets exhausting on the body n on the mind n then explosion occurs.