I wrote this poem in 2016 when I was reflecting on how different my children were. At the time, my middle son was going through a difficult time and it was hard to deal with.
my 3 sons in July of 2021
Living with my three children
Is like living in three different countries
My oldest would be Singapore
With strict rules and laws,
He hates flaws in himself
And others and is unforgiving
It’s challenging to live in
Singapore
My middle child would be a war torn ridden country
I wrote this poem in December of 2016 after my almost love affair with death on December 5th. It’s strange how aside from my journal entries from that month, I hardly remember that month. I just remember feeling so broken inside and like a failure after that happened that it was so hard to get up every morning. I do know that writing saved me during that time because I started journaling way more consistently. I would learn years later after being diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder that up to 10 percent of people with BPD die by suicide. Five years later, I’m glad that I had people by my side that prevented me from becoming one in ten. I’m glad that afterwards, I was able to slowly come back from thiseven if I was mostly depressed the year after and it was a fight to get up every single day.
For more information about the high risk of BPD and Suicide, here is a link from Psychology Today with info about it:
I wrote this poem in fall of 2005 when I was feeling overwhelmed by my responsibilities of being a mother, a girlfriend, a student and a worker. As usual at that time, I took on too much and was trying to be everything to everyone. One trait of BPD that I’ve carried throughout the years is over extending myself sometimes to my detriment in order to make other people happy.
I wrote this in 2006 after I was reflecting my first years of being a mother to my eldest child who I had at 17. Becoming a mother at such a young age didn’t make me the best parent and at times I still tried to act my age and party a lot even though I was a parent. It used to eat me up inside but I’ve come to terms that I did the best I could under the circumstances.
I wrote this in 2006 when me and my husband were in this monotonous routine of kids, work, and school. I felt lonely in our relationship and it was hard for me to express it to him.
It’s frustrating Living like this Without desire or passion The only thing that’s left for us Is to leave from here This everlasting ocean of loneliness In which we are drowning And separately swim to the shore of happiness Where we both belong
You were the rainbow That came after the most dreadful storm You were wanted, you were planned You were loved You were everything Anxiously, I waited for your arrival Counting down the months, the weeks, And eventually the days Cautiously, I felt hope With every flutter, And every kick You were a ninja Determined to reassure This worried mama that You were okay- And I glowed bright From your inner light And finally The day came I would get to meet My newest love made creature And with your birth Life finally felt complete
My last year in my 30s ended up with me being an essential worker during a pandemic while being a mom of three and being involved in two different romantic liaisons. I could look back on what I have not accomplished in my life and be sad but instead I’ll focus on my growth and my goals for the next year. I’ve made a lot of progress this year both financially and personally. I’ve improved my credit score by 100 points by working 2 jobs and paying debt off. Also for the first time in my adult life I’m in a healthy romantic relationship with a wonderful man. This time last year I didn’t think either was possible and at times I don’t feel like I deserve all of the good fortune in my life. As I look forward to my next year and my new decade, I hope to really focus on becoming a confident driver, submit my writing everywhere and try to get published, and continue to work my two jobs to save up to buy 2 houses. I’m kind of excited for how the next decade looks like. My thirties taught me I can survive what I once thought would not be survivable. During my thirties, I felt myself merely surviving. In this next decade, I look forward to thriving.
I wrote this in 2002 about my oldest son’s father. I really wanted him to step up to be a dad to our son despite our turbulent past.
truth
You make me think to look past that fateful night of fucking So I forced that memory to fade fast Even when a baby was made Cause you chose her over me I had to assume it was fate That there could neve be a “we” Just forget about that night And clean our slate white And walk with him the father-son mile
Me and my youngest on 6/26/22
