my life flashed before my eyes as a fog took over my mind and body What would happen to my ex? What would happen to my kids? they can’t function without me I’m the one who makes sure the rent and electricity get paid I’m the one who always takes the initiative to better our family I’m the one who’s trying to break generational curses so my kids don’t suffer as much as I did my life flashed before my eyes, and I mentally prepared a list in my head of every one of my children’s milestones i would miss out on if God took me now and as the fog finally started to lift I thanked God for his mercy and understood the message from the universe I really need to take better care of myself my health can never be taken for granted I’m too important for my family, my friends to learn to live without me this was my great awakening
another new year is here another season of my life will soon be renewed more chances for new experiences and adventures more opportunities to fuck things up and give fodder to the inner critic in me to emotionally beat me up more time to question myself am I doing enough for me and my kids to prosper more moments of joy and laughter with my boys as they get older and continue to find their autonomy more grief and sadness as the working class and marginalized communities continue to be stepped on more memories made that ignite a spark of creativity within me another new year another transformation under construction
I wrote this poem earlier this month for a future version of myself. I wanted to end 2024 with a hopeful and romantic note.
lighting hits me and I’m in love all over again this time I take my vows seriously this time I believe in the whole “til death do us part” bit this time it’s far from perfect and ideal but for once in my life we’re enough for each other and there are no seconds thoughts that this is true love
I drank the last drop of the wine you gave me as I sing out my guts to lyrics that reminds me of you the worst of my ideas, the worst of my crimes I drank the last drop of the wine you gave me hoping that this is the last bit of closure I need from you and that from now on we’ll both live our lives free and clear of each other and soon you both fade into the background of my memory and soon you stop showing up in my dreams
my low rent bennifer phase lasted a total of 19 days before I blocked him
just call me J.Lo without the ass because my ex (if we can even call him that) came back to me after 2 years of sobriety we’re the low rent version of Bennifer except we’re not millionaires or celebrities (yet) I’m just a working class immigrant poet and he’s my ex whatevership Nordic muse
beast hurry up and come find me it’s been a year since I’ve been married two years since I had sex and three years since I’ve been in real relationship I’m a thirsty and horny yearning to break my vow of celibacy
August came and I hold onto the few slivers of hope left in me as I reach another rock bottom self correcting and not making myself a victim making sure I’m better than yesterday Trying my best to control my emotions knowing that somewhere in the wash of this downward spiral will come the biggest silver lining
I wash my hands of all my past sins my wrongs never defined me It was a toxic narrative I swallowed whole when I was addicted to suffering and being a martyr
Universe, send me a silver lining send me a sign, send me a message things will be alright lately everything feels so awry lately May feels like the longest month of my life lately everything feels like chaos and darkness I can’t seem to get rid off And lately I’m afraid I’m about to lose my mind
the real tragedy is no one has gotten me this cake yet
ancestor, ancestor- which alcohol goes best with making shitty life decisions ancestors says, not the PBR, not the michelob ultra light, it’s too basic of an energy for the kind of epic shitty life decisions you tend to make don’t reach for the margarita wine either, too obvious, too much of a cliche and you already have plenty of them in your poetry Go for the Guiness six pack make your shitty life decisions with some English class since most of your terrible decisions tend to include some asshole whose ancestors are colonizer Englishmen
for almost three years I’ve been waiting for the next guy to appear as some kind of hero, as some kind of reward for all of my effort I’ve put into myself and the life I’ve built Subconsciously I did this Even as I publicly roared about being empowered on my own I still wanted someone to be my sanctuary to lay my love in And I wrote, manifested, schemed, flirted got obsessed with men who were just meant to be friends Thinking, gosh, if I hang on long enough, he’ll come around this might work out but today I discovered the only hero for me is the woman in the mirror who still manages to get out of bed even on the bad days when she’s too tired to function when she’s exhausted by all of it
it’s the wild wild west inside my head it’s where my demons decide to come out to play they dance with traumatic memories making my fears and insecurities come out to the surface it’s the wild wild west inside my head being insane becomes my personality and aesthetic scaring away any potential love candidates it’s been a long time since I held someone’s hand much less been in someone’s bed It’s the wild wild went inside my head And I wonder when will the demons get tired and leave so maybe one day I’m not so jaded so maybe one day I give someone the chance to take me out on a date
Happy 13 years of blogging to ME! This blog is now as old as my youngest child. And just like him, it’s had some growing pains as well. So, just to recap, here’s how it started:
In year 12, I kept the same format and kept telling my story through poetry and so far it’s still working. Year 12 has been somewhat tricky and challenging given some extenuating personal circumstances so I didn’t experiment with the blog the way I had wanted to. However, I will say that I am glad I’m still here telling my story my way. At times when things have looked bleaked for me and I just about wanted to throw in the towel and kind of give up, creating content for this blog has kept me grounded and kept me going through my darkest of days . I also did add a couple of more playlists this year which captures my life the last couple of years:
I’m so very thankful for my followers and anyone who reads my little blog. It means the world to me that a lot of you are all still here following my chaotic storytelling with one day posting about wanting to be a “yung gravy’s groupie” and then a few days later posting about “contemplating life at the convent”. I feel so loved by an online community who finds me entertaining and accepts me for the often chaotic mess that I can be. I’m very grateful for y’all and so humbled by your support. If I wasn’t so medicated, I’d cry tears of gratitude.
Here’s one of my most favorite poems I wrote this year:
With all that being said, I’m not sure what the future looks like for the blog. I know that in 2025, I wanted to rebrand and rename it because I feel like I’ve outgrown the whole “I have BPD, and that’s the most interesting thing about me” storyline. I was going to do it this year, but well, life happened, and I just didn’t have time. With all that being said, I am going to give y’all a peek into what 2024 looked like for me with the 12 days of Patty: Poetry Edition starting on the 20th of this month. Here’s hoping that I continue with this little passion project of mine that’s saved me more times than I can count from falling into the abyss. Here’s manifesting a year of growth and love for the blog, for me, and for anyone who’s reading this post. Also, if y’all have any suggestions for a new name for the blog, let me know. And as always, I am open to collaborations with any content creators out there who feel like my blog would be a good fit for them. Speaking of collaborations, I was most fortunate to be interviewed by my friend J.R Barner for his newsletter and here’s a link to his newsletter for y’all to sign up for it:https://www.jrbarner.com/
and read his newsletter that I highly recommend. So to end this blog post, I’ll leave you with a link to one of my more hopeful poems about why I continue to tell my story.
the future of me is not written yet I have to understand that all I can do is write for her who will still question her existence or why things happened the way they did or what the fuck happened to her I know myself too well it doesn’t matter how far I’m in my self discovery journey I’ll always have questions Its my insatiable curiosity I can only hope that the future me has leaned into self love More than ever before and still understands she and her kids are her top priorities Anyone else is expendable in her little universe of love
Life on the BPD 