The ME from June of 2014 sends me a message and asking, where are you? I tell her, life didn’t go as planned-you’re divorced and looking for a place for your ex but your kids are thriving-your oldest son has his driver’s license and is on his last semester Of accounting at Athens Tech- Your middle son will graduate from high school this year- and your baby is now taller than you and becoming his own person You’re working 2 jobs and you’re a citizen now and you’ve been to therapy to learn healthier coping mechanisms- you even drive now-you’re independent as fuck and live life on your own terms you’ve even been to Peru twice- You’re learning to follow your intuition and how use discernment in your choices in how you live your life- you’ve discovered your values underneath everything society brainwashed into you and at the end of the day all you want be is a good mom and a good person that’s the extent of your life’s purpose- now that we know who we are our next step is to plan the future we want- we’ll keep on thriving girl-you were the go getter and determined woman in me Even among one of my greatest depressions You still got up and followed your passions- And you laid the foundation-we’ll be okay-I promise I’ll make you proud of me- Love patty
she thinks she should be thanked for flexing her confidence clothed in privilege and luxury by posting advice to women about how dining alone in a fancy restaurant is women’s empowerment and I have an adverse reaction that makes me want to vomit it feels like a modern day Marie Antoniette moment perhaps it’s because I’m a working class immigrant woman who struggles in America perhaps it’s because the rights of the marginalized and working class are being ripped away from us and on my social media feed, this yuppie and elitist bullshit appears how can I be friends with this bleached blonde Barbie oh yeah, we worked together briefly and I almost start to comment with an essay on how she should check her privilege before handing out tokens of toxic positivity while people like me are drowning in debt and lack financial stability but I stop this barbie isn’t worth my time or energy it’s time to unfriend and unfollow the marie antoinette wannabe who only serves to trigger my working class rage who serves to remind of the injustice and inequality in this capitalistic and racist American society
“This is your time” the moon goddess whispers to me in a dream she puts her hand on my shoulder and a jolt of magic spread throughout my body I stumble and almost fall- but catch myself in time to stand up-and feel my power rise within I am invincible, I am empowered, I am ready to fulfill my potential and claim my success
I’ll still joke while I’m miserable-I’m a whole different kind of vibe
When I start to lose myself, death calls out to me like a potential lover it whispers my name and invades my thoughts it shows me the many ways to chase it Drive as fast as you can and lose control(no one has to know) Accidentally take too many of your prescription meds (they’ll say you weren’t feeling well that day) or go for a dramatic effect and cut your wrists with your razor from work (oops you mistook your skin for a box) Death tries to tempt me in many ways and I count to 10 and scream this time you won’t win
The wild elephant visits me and threatens my sanity and I can’t breathe- Waves of trauma hit and overwhelmed my mind and body It’s time for fight or flight and I choose flight- A few minutes in the bathroom when I count my breaths and calm my inner child who is screaming internally because she feels unsafe, helpless, and scared And middle age me quells her-puts on a blanket of strength and resilience Tells her, it will be okay and she’s safe-and I’ll protect her- And within minutes I’m back to my normal self- go back to work and take out any remnants of my panic driven energy on the product I have left to stock
a tsunami of trauma washes over me and I regress to being 16- as I walk on the beach where I first fell in love as I stand on the bridge where I lost my shit and almost jumped off- regret and guilt sit at the bottom of my stomach and I want to vomit Instead, I pause and count to ten and breathe and I’m transported back to my present I’m safe again in my body- as I come to accept and love the immature and impulsive girl I once was who carelessly gave herself to others who never thought about the consequences and took risks she wasn’t the atrocity I made her out to be- she was just in a rush to live her life
let’s forget our past love stories and focus on the one we’re living the one we’re still writing let’s agree that anyone before you, anyone before me were just practice for the honest and magical love we’re experiencing let’s focus on our present and start planning our future that’s waiting to be lived that’s waiting to be written
Video taken 6/15/2021 before my BPD Diagnosis-I was burnt out and miserable AF
6/30/2022
It’s been a year since I received my life changing diagnosis of Borderline Personality Disorder and so much in my life has changed because of it. I started therapy sometime around late June and I had to do a 3-hour mental health assessment in two separate sessions where my therapists asked me questions about past trauma and past patterns of behavior. It was a really, rough week emotionally for me because of that and other personal stuff going on in my life. I sat down across from my therapist as she explained how Borderline Personality Disorder diagnosis ended up on my concept map.
My first concept map-made on 6/30/2021, altered by me in Mid July
My reaction was one of numbness and shock. And then I made the mistake of going to the internet and looking it up and well BPD gets a bad rap for good reason. After reading all the bad things about BPD, I thought “I knew I had issues and was kind of messed up, but I didn’t expect to be this fucked up, this broken”. It doesn’t help that a couple of things that stand out on the internet about BPD are “BPD is the most painful mental disorder “Or “BPD people are manipulative” or “Some people with BPD are incapable of love”. It didn’t help that at the time I was diagnosed, I was also having a mental breakdown and my relationship at the time was on the rocks. When I told my friends and family about my diagnosis, most of them were supportive and encouraging but some were in denial and didn’t fully accept it. I was told “I couldn’t have BPD because I’m not so awful” or that “it’s not a big deal”. A couple of weeks after my diagnosis, I was broken up with. While I don’t want to go into the details about the events that led up to the demise of that relationship; I will say that the last day I saw my ex, there were a couple of things he said to me that really impacted me and made me really look at my life. I won’t say what they were, but it was useful for the next part of my journey. The breakup validated my worst fears about myself, “I’m unlovable”, I’m hard to love”, “I’m always going to be too emotionally unstable to be in a relationship” “I don’t deserve love” “I always fuck up everything good in my life” “I’m too fucked up and broken to be loved” etc., etc. Y’all have read the poetry and stories about how I don’t handle breakups well-ever. So, I’m lying-in bed crying and thinking all these things and don’t want to get up. I was on vacation when this happened so I could’ve stayed in bed all day and it would have been fine. However, something told me to keep going and getting up. The rest of the month of July is a blur to me at this point. I did document through video and journaling what I did so I know what I did, however there are parts of that month I don’t remember living.
Video taken 7/16/21, 7/19/21, 7/24/21-the start of this journey was difficult and rough-I was in and out of suicidal ideation mode for 2 weeks straight
I know I kept up with my therapy appointments and worked every day and wrote. Something I had to do for therapy was keep a daily diary card monitoring my emotions and any situations that brought out strong emotions in me. The main emotions I felt the months of July, August, and September were anger, sadness, and despair so filling out my diary card was a task but also necessary for me to get better at coping with life.
my first diary card-first two weeks of July
Something my current therapist said in group therapy was how grief makes one take a stock of life and how you’re living it. After the breakup, while yes, I felt this immense grief over that situation, I also felt grief and anger over other traumatic events in my life I hadn’t healed from. It was like I had this closet full of unprocessed trauma that was about to burst open at any time and in July, the door busted wide open and out came well, almost everything I kept inside of me well hidden. Shame, guilt, anger, fury, despair, sadness over past trauma were feelings I became well acquainted with for those first three months. I felt stuck at times in this emotional fog but somehow kept going. I continually asked myself what the purpose of all my hard work was and at first it was so that I don’t ever “split” on my kids like I had on other people in my past. I also had to learn a new language with my BPD diagnosis. I know that sounds weird but with all the new vocabulary words thrown at me, it’s what it felt like. In June and July, I learned real quick what dissociation, masking, and splitting was because that’s basically what I did those months. I also learned the term hypersexuality which I’ve addressed in some of my posts and poetry in this blog. Reflecting on everything that I’ve learned I can understand how my behavior can seem scary and unsafe to some people. I’ve finally had a deep understanding of how much of my erratic and impulsive behavior has greatly impacted my life.
I’m not the woman of your dreams or the woman you’ll worship as a deity or the woman who accommodates and bends according to your needs but I’m the woman who’ll haunt you with the “what ifs”, I’m the woman who’ll fuel your creativity, I’m the woman who’ll make you believe magics exists
