Describe a risk you took that you do not regret.
No Regrets
Poetry: Banished
I wrote this poem on Valentine’s Day of 2022.
Your false love swallowed me into an ocean of oblivion
and I almost drowned
You consumed my mind with anxious thoughts
of whether or not I mattered to you
And thoughts of death visited me when you ignored me
Feelings of worthlessness and emptiness
threatened my wretched existence over and over again
because of your inconsistent love
But one day, I was enough by myself
I didn’t need your pseudo love
So I’m banishing you to the land of past lovers
who never deserved the magic
of my love
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The Art of Compassion and Grace
Daily writing prompt
Describe a decision you made in the past that helped you learn or grow.
I still ache inside at times
over past regrets, over past mishaps
it’s when doubt in me starts to rise
And I fear another emotional relapse
but then faith whispers to me
let go of your past and focus on your present
and I float back down to reality
and once again gain confidence
my past and trauma never defined me
it’s part of my heroine’s journey
at times I may have been terrible
but I’ve always taken accountability
at times I’ve felt irreparable
but it’s a false story I told myself
I’ve finally learned how to knock out
those thoughts of how awful I’ve been
I’ve learned the art of compassion and grace
for myself
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Poetry: Fearful
Aquí está la versión en Español:
https://lifeonthebpd.com/2022/01/05/poesia-cobardia/
you burned our novel of love
because your courage ran out
because you couldn’t fight for us-
even when you told me over and over again
how being with me made you feel alive
how I was different from anyone you ever met
none of that mattered because you chose your wife
because she brings you security
because she’s your peace
because she’s comfortable
because you preferred a static and predictable life with her
Instead of living a life full of excitement and challenges with me
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unconventionally pretty
The creases and wrinkles of my body should make self conscious
because I’m getting older, because I’m getting fatter
but I think the creases and wrinkles of my body
make me the most beautiful version of me
My body proves I live a life with an abundance of food
My body proves I’m still here in middle age making mistakes
and learning from them
Society wants me to believe I don’t hold much value
since I don’t fit their standard of youthful beauty
Well I say fuck society and their standards of beauty
I’m happy and proud to be unconventionally pretty
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Poetry: Treasure Chest
I wrote this poem in April of 2022.
Deep inside of me
is a treasure chest
full of wonder, full of splendor
Deep inside of me
is a treasure chest
full of sadness,full of sorrow
Deep inside of me
is a treasure chest
full of love, full of laughter
Deep inside of me
is a treasure chest
full of anger, full of hate
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Poetry: Raw
I wrote this poem in April of 2022.
I feel raw with emotions
It’s like someone has ripped off
the scab of an almost healed heart
and it’s bleeding once again
And while this time
it’s not pulsating with anger and rage
it still hurts
like a small paper cut
you can’t see but it’s still there
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Poetry: Do I have to hide?
I wrote this poem in April of 2022.
I hide the craziest parts of myself
The parts that get sad,
The parts that get obsessed
The parts that lose hope
I hide the worst parts of myself
the parts that feel empty
The parts that feel numb
The parts that want to die
I hide the craziest and worst parts
of myself
so no one else will leave
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Poetry: Best I Can Be
I wrote this poem in April of 2022.
I wish I could be perfect to everyone in my life,
the perfect mom, the perfect coparent, the perfect mistress
but the pressure gets too loud within me
And I need to get away from how I want to be perceived
I’ll never be the perfect anything
I’m never be June Cleaver or the perfect dream girl
I can only be authentically and imperfect me
And maybe me and everyone in my life
need to accept that’s the best I can be
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Poetry: Pleading with the Full Moon
I wrote this poem in April of 2022.
I told the full moon to listen to my pleas
to lessen my pain
to turn me from victim to victor
I told the full moon to let my mind rest
and stop my intrusive thoughts
that tell me I’m worthless
and not good enough
I told the weary moon to fill me
with self love
instead of self hate
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Poetry: More than a Diagnosis
I wrote this poem in April of 2022.
My diagnosis doesn’t define me,
It empowers me, it makes sense of my nonsense
I’m not crazy or chaotic or even hard to love
I’m a dream come true wrapped up in complexity
sure at times I feel like a nightmare
But don’t all of us get rough at times
So whoever gets scared and runs away from me
Sorry not sorry, I’m too much
and you’re just not enough
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Poesia: No Se
Here is the English version of this poem:
https://lifeonthebpd.com/2022/01/13/poetry-do-i-know/
no se que es el amor
y dudo que alguna vez sabré
porque cada vez que intento vivir
un cuento de amor
para de repente o pierdo la cordura
Y con cada amante nuevo
pienso que aprendo algo del amor
Pero, siempre resulta ser un empiezo falso
y me siento demasiado cansada para seguir
obsesionandome con algo que nunca sera para mi
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Poetry: My Secret
I wrote this in March of 2022 for World Bipolar Day.
I wear the stigma of a bipolar diagnosis and hide this big secret
This secret has been a part of me since my teens
This secret explains my sometimes uncontrollable insanity
This secret at times robs me of my sleep
This secret has taken me on many fun and lustful adventures
This secret makes me write, write, write
so I don’t want to die, die, die
I keep this secret and take medication for it
But one day, I’ll scream out loud my mental health truth
I’m bipolar 2
I’m not enough to ruin your life but just enough to fuck it up
a little at a time
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Poetry: The Answer
I wrote this in December of 2021.
Thanks to learning about my BPD
I’m finally free to be me
There is a reason for my numbness
and for why I’m such an emotional mess
Genetics and trauma played a part
for me constantly falling apart
There is a reason for my impulsivity
and for why I distort reality
There is a reason for men running away from me
when I go from being sweet to being crazy
And now that I know I have BPD
I can conquer the world of DBT
I hope that after I’m more calm
And stop going off like a bomb
Hopefully I have more control over my emotions
And there will no longer be hysterical explosions
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Poetry: My Kind of Love
I wrote this in March of 2022.
I never needed anyone to teach me how to love
what I needed was understanding and acceptance
while my love is kind and sweet most of the time
my love also cannot be tamed at times
when it gets wild and out of control
it’s better to just ride the big wave of it
until it is tamed and soft again
it wasn’t that I didn’t know how to love
It’s just that most don’t know how to handle it
my kind of overwhelming love is a crazy kind of love
it will hurt you, challenge you and bring conflict
it will make you want to slap the shit out of me
because yes it’s that intense
but my kind of of love is always worthy
Life on the BPD 