my anger walks in and I feel an earthquake within and I become the saltiest bitch Writing poetry about anyone who’s wronged me but then again it is entertaining Seeing how mean and petty I can be It’s not like I’m vindictive or seeking out revenge most of these new angry poems won’t be shared with the world it will be kept inside the pages of my notebooks and journals I just need to let it out and scream Fuck you, fuck him, fuck her, fuck the world, fuck everything Before I take it out on anybody before I post something stupid and cringy I’ll regret later before I allow the world to know how I’m burning
This time I feel like I’ve finally settled most of my soul’s score by doing so much inner work I still have toxic and angry moments but they no longer consume me This year I’m manifesting a new kind of love energy Someone who can match my wild and creative energy Someone who values me as a whole person and doesn’t just fall in lust with my body Someone brave enough to love me and doesn’t scare easily when I’m challenging and moody this year I’m opening myself to love energy who makes me laugh, who inspires me I think I’m finally ready
out of the most depressed minds comes the greatest creativity I wonder why that is– Is it because there are no limits in our imagination? Is it because we live 100 lives in 1 lifetime? Is it because we are easily inspired by devastation and loss? It is because pain and sadness flows out of us more easily than others and we have a necessity to repurpose it as art?
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
I’m healing and unraveling at the same time I’m unraveling the parts of me that no longer fit in my new narrative I’m unraveling the ugliness, my vengeful spirit full of spite and jealousy talking to it, deconstructing it cause to live with so much anger and resentment in my heart is draining and leaves no room for lovely and hopeful beginnings
I’m so fucking triggered-I can’t see past my tears when the fuck does this healing journey end Because this constant confrontation with trauma leaves me drained and constantly causes chaos and devastation within me
Something on your “to-do list” that never gets done.
My goals for 2024
So my time is limited because of my crazy working hours, but something that keeps getting pushed to the back burner are my taxes from last year. I freaked out last year because haha I have to pay back an obscene amount ( welcome to middle class status in America), so I basically ignored them, and now here I am in a new tax year but now filing in a different status cause of my divorce. The good thing is that my oldest just got his A.A in accounting so he’ll do them for me this month or next. I’m good with the turbo tax software, but my situation feels like beyond my comprehension, so I’ll let an expert do it. Something I also need to do is spend more time with my 2 youngest sons. It is hard because my youngest likes to spend more time with his friends, and my other son has particular interests, which include discussing the state of world affairs and watching depressing foreign films. But yeah, I need to work on my relationship with both of them. I even suggested playing fortnight with my youngest, but he told me it was cringe and I’m too old. Lol. I hope this time next month, I’m done with my taxes and find ways to bond my sons.
I wrote a version of this poem in 2005. It was about my frustration with the relationship I was in at the time.
Drown in passion
I’m hanging on to my last thread of sanity trying to accommodate to our new reality I know monotony happens even in the best relationships but this feels like the death of our love Where did your yearning for me go? You used to worship me and call me Godly now I can barely get you to look at me and when I say anything, you call me crazy so I’m going to swallow my words and pretend I’m okay with this charade of love
Cry in front of me and show me your vulnerable side I won’t run away or shame you for sharing your pain I understand what it’s like to be left alone when you start to drown in your emotions and you reach for someone and that person turns you away I will never be that callous when I say you can be safe with me, I really mean it
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 go between contacts and glasses to fit my different personas- in my contacts I’m a pretty woman with makeup and a dress I become the kind of woman men are nervous to be around or get intimidated by In glasses I don’t care to capture the male gaze or even mine it’s when I work that second job or I’m at home it’s when I allow myself to just exist not caring about the pressure to be attractive or allow my social conditioning to take over and tell me since I’m this crazy, I need to be pretty, sexy, charming to validate my existence Lately I prefer my glasses, lately I want the freedom to just be
In an ideal and magical universe, the one thing I would do differently if I had magical powers is turn into a potato. A potato that becomes a beautiful and most delicious plate of french fries bringing happiness and joy to some random person when they taste me. To become a potato would mean I wouldn’t have to be human and constantly exist which gets extremely exhausting and annoying at times. To become a potato means that for most of my life I would be surrounded by other potatoes, just chilling with absolutely no drama. It would be a swell life, I think.
I want to be part of someone’s french fry addiction
However, I don’t live in an ideal and magical universe so I guess what I could do differently is to become more organized in my life. I have struggled with the curse of disorganized thoughts and a disorganized life since I can remember. I’ve tried and tried and have somewhat succeeded in some areas of my life in becoming more organized. For example, I have a routine that I try my best not to interrupt. It’s important to maintain this routine so I remain semblance of sanity for the most part. It’s hard because I’m pretty sure I have undiagnosed ADHD that’s followed me since I was a kid. That’s also why I struggled with disorganized thoughts which the silver lining in is that I get very creative when I’m in the thick of it. However, it’s also fucked with my sleep schedule which means I rely on sleepytime tea and meds to be able to go to sleep. Having disorganized thoughts also means I get overwhelmed and overstimulated at times in my environment if it’s chaotic. It turns my cortisol levels all the way up and I have to find a way to cope ASAP. It’s my flight or fight response turned on and I usually choose flight. Like for example, during my PMDD period (worst time when I have disorganized thoughts), I’m moody AF and if I get triggered by someone or something, while I may want to hurl insults or punch that person, most of the time I pause, assess, and go for a drive or a walk. Most of the time it’s a drive though because that seems to be the faster way I calm down.
me in car trying to calm down
This post is a perfect example of my struggle with organization. I went from talking about wanting to be a potato to talking about disorganization to my PMDD. This fucking struggle is too real. Anyways, to answer this question, I could make more lists of shit I need to get done, schedule my breakdowns more often when I can (haha), make more time to meditate and relax (Idk how this will happened, I can’t even remember ever taking a nap in Kindergarten). It’s starting to feel like a hopeless situation but Idk maybe I’ll find the answer in a book. Who knows? Crazier things have happened. Also, I’m open to suggestions.
it’s me and my racing thoughts against reality on some days
me at 8 in an itchy AF dress, couldn’t hide my RBF
to little me, I’m sorry, lo siento I’m sorry, lo siento There are no words that could make sense or give purpose to what you went through it was awful that your childhood was tainted by trauma that wasn’t acknowledged or that your feelings were invalidated by those who promised to love and protect you I’m sorry , lo siento I’m sorry, lo siento and while I know my words are insufficient to lessen the pain and trauma you experienced I’m here to acknowledge it and make sure you can heal from it
I can tell when my depression is getting the better of me I uninstall most of my social media apps- Start isolating from friends and family- dissociate to whatever sad songs I have on repeat Today’s music is Jojo and Taylor Swift and I write anything and everything that comes into my head about what has been or is my current tragedy it’s almost comedic how dramatic I can On days like these I feel too sensitive for this world everything burns, everything is a trigger and I almost hate myself and fall back into self destructive patterns Seek out validation of my existence from others it would be so easy to reach out and get help but today, I want to fully feel my misery as it takes over me let it speak in my writing Me, my music, my paper and pen is all I need to get through this latest depression spell
Life on the BPD 