I wrote this in 2002 about Matt, my oldest son’s bio dad. I was about to see him and having a lot of feelings about it.
My past hangs over me
like a song that keeps
repeating itself over and over again
The more I try to run away from it
The louder and closer it gets
I don’t want to do it
But I will have to face him someday
It is better sooner than later
So I can start looking
Forward to my future
On the eve of the New Year, I reflect on the crazy and wild year that was 2021. It was a year of great transformation for me. There were a lot of changes this year. Some good, some bad, some that made me want to die. Lol. To end this year on a positive note, I will concentrate on the lessons I’ve learned this year:
1. My superpower is my resilience. Life may get crazy and really rough shit may happen to me but I still get up the next morning and show up for myself and others no matter what. It’s important for me to keep moving. This might not work for everybody but it works for me. I may want to lay in bed and dwell in my misery on some days but the fighter in me says “no bitch, get up and do your thing”.
2.It’s okay to say “NO” and sometimes it might be crucial to my mental health to do so. As a former people pleaser that used to love to accommodate for the needs of others, this was a hard lesson to learn. People in your circle will understand that “NO” is a complete sentence and will not try to turn your “NO” into a yes to fulfill their own selfish needs. For me, it’s really a boundary that cannot be crossed.
3.Don’t compromise your authenticity for anyone. I used to have this need to be loved or liked by everyone and sometimes I did this thing where I toned myself down or compromised who I was to the point that I would lose myself. Yeah I don’t do that anymore. People can get tired of me and leave and then what do I have left after I’ve changed into this edited version of myself for them to swallow; a freaking hot mess with a lost sense of identity. Nah, from now on, everyone I meet gets the most authentic version of me. If they don’t like it, they can leave. It’s not a good thing or bad thing, the people that are meant to be in your life will stay.
4.Do whatever it takes to get through the day even if it seems or feels crazy (within reason). One of my favorite phases I’ve come up with for myself is “I may be crazy but at least I’m creative as fuck”. In July, I went through a rough time and had to find new and rather innovative ways to survive. I restarted my blog,I have written more than 100 poems /essays/writings since July, exercised so much I lost 20 lbs, and my most favorite, beat a specific phobia (I’ll blog more about this later on in the new year). I also made loads of videos since that time frame to document my progress and growth.
5. Stop apologizing for your feelings and/or over-explaining yourself. Before you start apologizing for your feelings or over-explaining yourself, ask yourself why you’re doing it. I used to do this a lot as a trauma response.
6. You never stop growing. I’ve learned this year through therapy that there were still these parts of me that were emotionally stunted due to trauma. To be honest with myself, I have to acknowledge that sometimes when I get super angry I go into this type of age regression where I convert back to being an impulsive child that acts out. It’s cringy to say the least but I think that when I get to this stage in my anger, I’m in survival mode and do this to feel like I’m in control of a situation. Now that I’m aware of this, I’m so much better at practicing the pause and mindfulness when I’m angry or I take my impulsive bratty inner child for a run. Lol.
7. No one or nothing can save you from the emptiness, sadness, and feelings of worthlessness you might feel except yourself. I used to think that I needed someone or something for me to feel complete but this year I realized I don’t. If I felt empty or numb, I would chase a new job, a new man, new friends, etc to try to have this feeling of being enough or complete. I won’t say I was wrong; I was just doing the best I could with the information I had at the time. This year I learned to really pause and take the time to appreciate the life that I do have. I also really learned how being alone can be really empowering. It was hard at first but slowly I really started to enjoy my own company. The transformation from being this needy and almost codependent woman to being this confident and independent woman has honestly sucked. However, after many therapy sessions and tears, for the first time in my life, I have a new feeling of self worth and confidence that I’ve never felt before. In all honesty, I feel like I’m finally the powerful woman I always wanted to but didn’t have the courage to be until now.
8. It’s important to take time to rest. I say this acknowledging that I’m privileged enough to take time off from both of my jobs without any consequences. At my second job, when my manager would ask me to stay later or work an extra shift, I would say yes because I felt I had to or needed to. I learned this summer to say “no” and draw my own boundaries with them. I learned that it’s crucial to me to have time to myself for my own well being. And in all honesty, I’ve used work as a way to avoid living my own often hectic and chaotic life especially when it got too overwhelming. Now, I finally have the life I want that I don’t feel the need to run away from.
9. Live your truth out loud. This year I’ve made the conscious decision to be more honest about the life I live. I used to be ashamed and I tried to mask certain parts of my life. I no longer really do that. Most of the people at both my jobs and family know about the complicated personal life I’ve had, my diagnosis, and other areas of my life I thought I needed to keep private. To my surprise, people are incredibly support and not judgmental at all. I’m incredibly lucky that in this area in my life, people are really rooting for me and not against me.
10. It is important for me to feel my feelings and ride the rollercoaster of overwhelming emotions when it comes and it doesn’t make me a weak person. Before being diagnosed with BPD, I used to get so mad at myself or felt shame whenever I felt the intense emotions rise up within me when something upset me or made me sad. I felt weak and irrational and tried to rationalize and fix whatever was wrong with me right away. After my BPD diagnosis, I learned that there is nothing wrong with my emotions. I also learned that it’s important to honor my emotions. It’s important for me to observe my intense emotions and listen to what my mind and body needs. If I’m cranky, maybe I need to rest. If I’m super angry, maybe I need to write salty poetry or exercise. If I’m sad, maybe I need to listen to sad music and cry . 99 percent of the time, honoring my emotions like this has worked and what use to take days of misery to get over now takes hours
I don’t know what lessons 2022 has in store for me but for the first time in a long time I’m excited about life. I’m excited about all of the growth and progress I’ve made this year even if it has been rough at times. I’m excited that right now I’m disciplined enough and have the right tools and environment to continue to make progress with my emotional and physical health. A year ago, I was miserable, tired AF and working at my 2nd while people were feeling sorry for me but today I’m at home in my PJ spending time with my boys and I’m full of optimism. A lot can change in a year and while 2021 was bitter sweet, I’m thankful for the lessons. Here is to 2022 being another year full of lessons, full of growth, and full of hope.
So today marks my 10 anniversary since starting this blog. I’ll admit that until the summer of this year I didn’t take this blog as seriously as maybe I should have. I started this blog in December of 2011 after my house was broken into and we were robbed. It was traumatizing to me and my family and I needed a way to process it so I started blogging. Here is that blogpost:
Hola/Hello
Since starting this blog, there have been a lot of life changes. I’ve blog about those life changes few times when just writing it down doesn’t do the trick. The way that I have explained it to friends and family is that the blog is like screaming into the void of cyberspace. In October of 2019, I started posting my poetry and this was another level of intimacy for me because I don’t share my poetry with just anyone. I will share my poetry or writing with one of my close friends or sometimes at open mic at my local pub .Then I started a second job and I didn’t have the time needed to dedicate to this blog but I always kept writing. Then I got into a relationship that lasted until July of this year. While I’m not getting into how that relationship ended or why (that’s blog content for late next year-lol) it was one of the reasons I started blogging again. The demise of that relationship was unexpected and devastating for me so I turned to my first coping mechanism-writing. Shortly before my breakup in July, I started therapy and was diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder and that was a lot to process in itself. Being broken up while dealing with a new diagnosis of Borderline Personality Disorder felt like I had experienced 2 really horrible car wrecks within a week. I compare it to a car accident because that’s probably one of the most traumatizing experiences of my life. Except this time, it wasn’t my car that was totaled and unrepairable, it was me. I felt like I had lost part of my identity since I was no longer someone’s partner and I gained a new part of my identity in being diagnosed with BPD. I felt completely overwhelmed with no sense of direction; I honestly didn’t know what to do next. All I wanted to do was lie in bed and cry while Alexa played my sad girl playlist from Spotify. Here is that playlist:
Playlist: For the Brokenhearted: Sad Edition (the one where you cry)
And while I did do that some of the time; I understood I still needed to get up every day and show up for myself somehow. And showing up for myself meant writing. And so I wrote every day in my journal and in my numerous notebooks. I wrote letters at 3 AM that I would never send, journal entries full of immense sadness and rage, and tons and tons of poetry.
A few days after my breakup, I decided to blog about my diagnosis to start to make sense of it and here’s that post:
A New Diagnosis: BPD
After writing that post and it got more than a few views and a couple of likes, it made me realize that there are other people like me. I also got the idea at that time that healing for me would look like me revisiting past traumatic situations through my poetry and reflections or writing a blog post. And this was chaotic in itself because I started posting poetry from all stages in my life. So around late October and early November, I started posting poetry for the most part chronologically from the early stages of my writing with the very first poem I wrote when I was 15 and here’s that poem:
Poetry: Another Mate
My writings and poetry are confessional, sometimes childish, and at times super emotional. It’s meant for people who have felt misunderstood in their anger and grief, it’s meant for people who feel everything at once and feel overwhelmed by it, it’s meant for people who have traumas they’re still not over, and it’s meant for people who have given their trust and vulnerability to the wrong people only to be broken over and over again by doing this.
My future plan for this blog is to continue to post poetry, essays, playlists, and other writings. Without intending to, this blog has become a storytelling blog. And it’s a story about a woman who is far from perfect. It’s a story of woman who lies, who loves hard, who hates even harder, who loves sex, who has been abandoned by lovers and who has abandoned lovers, who’s crazy, and who feels immense sadness and rage when trauma hits. It’s a story of a woman who fucks up continuously but still manages to get up and try to become a better version of herself than she was yesterday. It’s also a story of a woman who has continued to triumph after trauma. Most importantly it’s a story of a woman who is done accommodating to people’s and society’s expectations of who she should be and at 40 has realized that being authentic and true to herself is the only and right way for her to be. I may have changed a lot within a decade but what will never change is my love for writing and my purpose to continue to share my story.
I wrote this poem in October of 2022.
you wear many faces, sometimes you have dark hair
sometimes you have blond hair
but you always take me in your arms
and make me feel loved and accepted for who I am
you don’t care that I’m too crazy or too much
It’s a type of excitement, an almost adrenaline rush for you
and if I annoy you-you’ll tell me I’m being ridiculous
but apologize right after I burst into tears
and you’re not afraid of my tears or screams
because you know it comes with the territory
when it comes to loving me
and then I wake up-
in my self imposed solitary confinement
and I wonder if this dream could one day come into existence
like my other dreams
or it it will become another fulfilled fantasy
Because love stories aren’t meant for someone crazy like me
I wrote this poem in 2018 shortly after the death of my maternal grandmother/mamacita. My grandmother lived in a time where her opportunities were very limited by society’s rules about what a woman should be.
The ghost of my grandmother
hangs above me
Her spirit swallows and
Envelops me-
It tells me to live
a life full of passion and love
Without self imposed boundaries
It tells me to stop
being afraid of my promise
and potential
and takes risks and
Go for my dreams
No matter how many
obstacles stand in my way
It tells me that I only
have one life left to live
And I need to start
living it fully instead
of standing on the sidelines
Waiting for something or someone
to rescue me
It tells me
Stop waiting
Now it’s your turn
So I’ve been in denial for the past few weeks. I haven’t been keeping up with the COVID numbers as I usually do and have been ignoring the news about this new Delta variant of COVID. Last year, COVID basically consumed most of my life since I was an essential worker for the Department of Public Health and Kroger.
It was basically an adrenaline rush that kept going strong with constant policy changes at both jobs until October/November and there was peace and almost going back to normalcy until late December when the COVID vaccination phases started. During this time, this took a toll on the mental health of me and my fellow coworkers. There were times that were so dark for me, that I wondered on some mornings if it would be the day I would be committed to the psych ward.
However, I was super fortunate to have support from friends and my then supportive partner during that awful time. I was also seeing Mr.Toxic who was my pandemic buddy who I would freak out with every time something new happened with the virus. Up until a few weeks ago, things had basically gone back to normal at both my jobs. Masks were basically a thing of the past (well for us that are fully vaccinated) and I wasn’t getting any calls about Covid.
That changed this past week when once again the numbers are rocketing out of control with the Delta Variant. I also started getting calls again about Covid at my DPH job and once again masks have enforced for all employees at both of my jobs
At this point I’m honestly anxious about quite a few things:
It will be interesting to see how all of this will play out with the new surge. I hope that the new administration will be way more proactive than the previous one. I also hope that mental healthcare ends up being more accessible to the general population because a lot of us will need it.
Below is the link for the COVID related post from last year:
It’s really hard to be vulnerable in this space but somehow I feel safe. Maybe it’s the lack of carbs along with almost a bottle of champagne and the almost anonymity. For the first time in a long time, I’m doing pretty good in life. I’m making this busy life of working almost 80 hours a week work for me with 3 kids, a great potential partner, a soon to be ex who’s my best friend/roommate, and the best friends any gal can find. I’m not failing at both of my jobs. In fact, I’m killing it and even had some “unusual” success at my second job. The guy that’s been my in my life for almost the past 4 months, has slowly moved from friendzone to something more last month and well he’s being very patient with my skittish behavior and my busy schedule. The second date and the last time we saw each other, he looked at me like I was magic and to be honest, it scared the shit out of me. So much of me wants to run away because I’ve never encountered someone that just wanted to really know me. Usually dudes, just put up this pretense of wanting to know the “real me” because they really want to be laid by someone “exotic” like me. Even, my soon to be ex husband pulled this trick. Haha. Do I blame them? Nah, It’s human nature to want to get laid, especially for guys. But, “A”, new dude, he’s different. He checks all of my potential great partner boxes and yet, I want to run. Maybe I’m scared of happiness finding me because I know how fleeting it can be.
Which leads me as to why I’m writing this post at midnight while kind of drunk as I listen to the saddest and cheesiest pop songs ( Hello Selena Gomez, Camila Cabello, Adriana Grande and my favorite, Ariana Grande…etc-you get the point-haha). I finally said goodbye tonight to the fuckboi that has been haunting my life for almost 2 years on my own terms. To explain our story, well, you can look back on other posts and angst ridden/love poetry. Two words to describe our long term situationship, intense and toxic. It’s a cliché but I never knew I could feel such intense hate and love for someone until I met him. I was F.Scott and he was my Zelda, my muse, my long term obsession. The last time we had a falling out, he ghosted me for 3 months and you guessed it, he came back the day after I had my second date with “A”. It’s like he senses when I’m happy or almost happy and comes back to cause chaos in my life. And my masochist tendencies went to see him even though I know our story always ends up in devastation for me. And even though, I was angry with him and I hate him, somehow I still wound up in bed with him. I knew that night like I knew the first night I was with him, I love him and part of that is that when I’m with him, he makes me feel like I belong to him. I’ve never felt that with anyone. It’s intoxicating and addictive and hard to give up, obviously.
However, the sex, the chemistry, the love I feel for him will never be enough for us to make things work, for him to change into the partner I deserve. I’ve known this for a while but hung on to hope looking for signs that maybe he would change if I “stayed” long enough tolerating his narcissistic bullshit and the awful way he treated me. It’s amazing how love can make one so foolish and dumb. I recognize and am aware in my own part in this toxic mess we both ended up making for 2 years. And even though I recognize the toxicity of whatever I have/had with him, it’s still hard to let go. It’s hard to let go of the fact that maybe I won’t feel this with anyone else. But then I tell myself, I don’t want to feel like this with anyone else. It’s crazy, toxic, and makes me lose all of my common sense. So tonight after I texted him “Goodbye” for the last time, I allowed myself to drink, have a mini breakdown, and isolate myself from my friends. I’m not even grieving him or the potential of the great love story we could have been, I gave up on that idea a long time ago.
Tonight, I’m allowing myself to just really move forward from him and start a new chapter where he no longer takes up space in my universe. Tonight, I allow myself to feel that I do indeed deserve all of the success professionally I encounter. Tonight, I allow myself to acknowledge that I do deserve someone like “A’ who values me more than just a girl he can fuck. And even if things end with him, I can hold on to the hope that there is someone out there for me that really sees me and believes I am indeed magic. I’m never again settling for kinda half ass effort just because the connection/chemistry is off the charts.
Life on the BPD 