I wrote this in February of 2019
Mother of three
What does that even mean?
Responsibilities, obligations, duties
Alcohol and going out are taboo for me
Songs of sacrifices and martyrdom
Are the tunes I hum
Dinner with friends and late
Night concerts are just WRONG!
Soccer games and play dates
Are my important dates
No time to spend
With my lifetime mates?
Mother of three,
Will I ever be free?
I wrote this poem in February of 2023.
I warn my sons about falling in love with poets and writers
I try to dissuade them from it
They’ll use any insensitive comment you ever made
into a salty verse dripped with not so subtle insults
They’ll use your most intimate moments as metaphors
for heaven or earthquakes
They’ll describe you as God or the Devil depending on how you left them
They’ll make you a villain in their stories or worst, the hero in them
And the worst part-
They’ll make you way bigger in their mind than you ever wanted to be
so , I plead with you, fall in love with a boring accountant or a teacher
or even a lawyer
You’ll avoid the stress of being someone’s inspiration, someone’s muse
and the chaos and drama that comes along with it
I wrote this poem in January of 2023.
They laid him on my breast and told me,
“Meet your baby boy” and I was in shock
the alien on top of me is mine?
this wasn’t supposed to be part of my adolescence
I’m only seventeen and some days I barely remember
to brush my teeth
and now I have this great responsibility
and his beady and angry eyes questions
as to why his comfort was disturb-he already hates the world
and I think , same, kid, same
I wrote this in January of 2023.
Yesterday I wondered how it would feel like to travel at the speed of light
I almost thought of trying it as I drove-but knocked out that intrusive thought
as the faces of my sons came to my mind-even in the worst of my crazy moments
my boys come to rescue me-reminding me I have so much to live for
I wrote this poem in December of 2022.
Relief comes after a nap on Christmas day
I woke up with so much joy and warmth in my heart
I feel like I’m standing on top of a mountain I’ve been climbing forever
A mountain climb that’s had a most treacherous uphill
and loaded with many obstacles I’ve stumbled and fallen from many times
but the universe, God presented me this gift of contentment for my life
the understanding that everything had to happen for this reason
to live in my childhood dreams of having my own family
who brings me love and purpose every day of my existence
here’s the english version of this poem:
Poetry: Golden Light
Joven y impetuosa
viví una vida donde mis impulsos y hormonas
controlaban todo-
hasta que un me encontré con una sorpresa inesperada
que cambiaría el rumbo de mi destino
fue mi hijo-una bendición mandada de Dios
con el madure, con el aprendí el significado del amor
fue el arco iris de una vida llena de caos y tempestad
Who are your current most favorite people?
My favorite words are my sons names
names that taught me about patience
and unconditional love
names that have made me get up
when I didn’t want to
names that fill me with faith and hope
when I’m about to lose it
names that make me want to become
a better person than I was yesterday
names I live for
names I would die for
7/6/22
here’s the english version of this poem:
Poetry: Dear Son
Quiero lo mejor para ti-porque te lo mereces,
porque tu no pediste ser parte de este mundo
pero la sigo regando con mis decisiones impulsivas
con mis estupideces
y no se como voy a salir de esta última atrocidad cometida
que afectará el futuro de los dos
I wrote this poem in October of 2022.
Me and my teenage son fight and I regret it the next day
I’ve watched too many people mourn their sons this year
I’ve felt the screams of those close to me
asking God why he took their babies too young
Young men who will never be fathers,
Young men who will never see their children grow up
into rebellious and sassy teens
and while I understand conflicts happens between
parent and child
I also know we’re both on borrowed time
and I don’t want our angry words
to be the last exchange between us
if its his or my last day today
I wrote this poem in September of 2022.
To my sons, when I leave the earth
Remember I am with you always
I am in my oldest son’s resilience
I am in my middle son’s dark humor
I am in my youngest son’s bright energy
I exist in your laughter, in your cries,
in your failures, in your wins
I am and always will be with you
Share a lesson you wish you had learned earlier in life.
I wrote this poem in September of 2022.
My son holds the universe in his eyes
with his potential, with his sense of wonder
his eyes are not yet jaded by the inhumanity of this world
and I dread when the day comes
as his innocence starts to fade
It’s been 2 years since my BPD diagnosis and some things have changed, some things have remained the same. I still have the same two jobs and still adhere to my strict routine of consistency and routine with exercise, writing, and therapy. I’m still on the same meds for my anxiety and depression. All of that has helped with my continued progress and growth. And I still continue to suffer from major depressive episodes but it’s not as bad as it used to be and here’s a blog I wrote about it recently:
But You Can’t Be Depressed, You’re a Mom
What has changed overall has been me. I remember last year writing about how I was living an authentic life and while that was mostly true, there was still something I had to take care of to make this true, my divorce and telling my youngest son about it. I went back to therapy to navigate these big feelings in actually starting the process and following through and telling my youngest son about it. I’m glad to report, I filed for divorce a couple of months ago and told my son who took it better than I expected. After this, I felt like this major burden of guilt and grief has been lifted off from me. It was hard, really hard to have lied about this part of my life for the past four years to my son and to other family members. Three of those years, I felt like I was leading a double life as I had to be careful not to let one part of my life bleed into the other. It was awful and reflecting back on this, I think this was a major trigger for my mental health breakdown in the summer of 2021. Feeling guilt and shame with the immensity of emotions that comes with BPD is horrible and something I would never wish on my worst enemy.
Another major thing that happened in year 2 is that I took two trips to my homeland, Peru. The first one was in September of 2022 and the second one was in March of this year. Both times I went, it was amazing and the first trip helped me reconnect with my roots and find a sense of identity I had been searching for all of this time. I hadn’t been back since I was 9 so it had been 32 years since I had been home. It was strange, glorious, amazing and overwhelming at the same time. It felt like I finally found a piece within me that had been missing all of this time.
The second trip was even better because I took my oldest son who hadn’t been on a plane since he was an infant and we got to visit my dad’s hometown of Oxapampa. I think I’m still processing that trip because it was so special and meaningful to take my son to Peru and show him his and my roots. I’m honestly still processing both trips and I’ll write about both of them later. What I can say is that both trips helped in my healing and recovery process from my BPD symptoms. Before, I was still floundering when it came to trying to establish a stable identity. That changed radically after I came back from my first trip.
to be continued in part two-
Life on the BPD 