Dear future heartbroken me, Sometimes it won’t be you or even him Sometimes things don’t work out It’s nothing to be obsessed about Sometimes love isn’t enough It doesn’t mean you’re not enough Sometimes things end abruptly and it’s not the end of your story and sometimes you learn from it And most of the time it will serve to change your narrative
The hands of ego and pride kept them apart They chose themselves instead of following their hearts it was tragic to see how many lies they weaved I don’t love her, I don’t love him they held on tightly to their anger, went back to their safety nets it was more comfortable to do so then to fall back into their chaos
I was your short term adventure of lust you tried to disguise as love It was fun for a while while we were both in denial until you got tired of me and left My broken heart, I had to atone I don’t know how to go on everything feels so wrong
I don’t want him to be a part of me- And yet he appears in my mind, my dreams, my poetry He doesn’t deserve any amount of space he comes to occupy in my life And within me -and yet he comes and stays I tell him to go away Stay away, and forget about me- But it never happens that way He consumes every bit of me and it’s a lost cause to get him out out of me
valentine’s day is around the corner so we’re bombarded by teddy bears,balloons, greetings with corny shit like “for my wife, the love of my life” and flowers, the fucking flowers there are even journals for couples to fill out in hope of getting closer- I still can’t figure that one out and stupid heart shaped everything, from cookie cutters to pillows and flowers, the fucking flowers and most of us eat it all up thinking if our partner doesn’t buy us anything or doesn’t meet our romantic expectations on the most materialistic of holidays, then they must not really love us- never occurring to us how this business of love preys on us and our fear of being lonely it capitalizes and profits from it sending us messages that we need to buy this or that (get the flowers, the fucking flowers) to show our love it’s a trap that followed us since our school days maybe it’s time to riot and burn down anything related to this dreadful holiday especially the fucking flowers or maybe I’m just a crazy and jaded bitch alone on valentine’s day
we were another lesson in love lost and mourned I tried everything to make it work even where it was past our expiration date I never wanted our children to be products of a broken home but even my best efforts could not fight how different we were or our long term story of incompatibility it wasn’t your fault or mine we were just both too stubborn to see what was in front of us a friendship that should’ve stayed platonic but you fell in deep for me and I was tired wanted to settle and we made it work until one day I realized it wasn’t enough
I no longer believe in always and forever because everyone I’ve loved has always left Or I’ve stopped loving them always and forever is a fairytale programmed into me when I was a young girl It made me believe in the impossible dreams of true love and soul mates the only thing love has ever brought me has been anger, sorrow, and self destruction so my dreams of always and forever have burned to ashes I bury in my poetry
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’d rather be berated and hated than ignored and treated with indifference call me a lunatic, call me a bitch call me the worst mistake of your life JUST CALL ME ANYTHING! Then I’ll know I won because I’ve imprinted on your memory
you were my hope in love restored everything I had dreamed of everything I had wished for and it was nice for a while- getting lost in our love thinking it was safe, thinking it could be my permanent sanctuary until one day like clockwork you changed your mind and decided I wasn’t enough and I was left wondering “what the fuck is wrong with me?”
your wretched goodbye brought a radical change within me left behind was the naive girl who fell in love with you left behind was the stupid bitch who made a home in you left behind was the insecure woman who made you her world the woman who stands before you made a 360 turn the woman who stands before lives life according to her own terms without apologizing, without accommodation, without toning herself down the woman you left behind no longer exists she turned into ashes and out of the ashes turned into a brave and powerful queen who learned that her love is the rarest type of jewel that she reserves only for those who love her and accept her exactly as she is
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