I wrote this in January of 2023.
when my inner bitch wakes up and rises-you better watch out
I have no scruples, I have no morals
my wrath has no limits
I’ll come after you with my words
call you out for hurting me or my loved ones
I’ll forget everything I learned in therapy
about compassion, about forgiveness
I won’t just act like a woman scorned
I’ll act like a villain in a horror movie
out for revenge
I wrote this poem in December of 2022.
I could be the poster child for love fiascos-
I love too fast, and too hard-
I’m the fool of the tarot
risking everything even my sanity for love-
getting caught up in feelings and magic
being delusional that somehow it could work out
even when the red flags scream at me-
I say fuck it-I switch off the logic button in me
and go all in
December 19th is National Emo Day and I wanted to honor it by sharing my spotify playlist with my favorite Emo Songs. I started listening to Emo music when my best friend introduced me to Taking Back Sunday and Brand New in college. I liked the music but didn’t get into it until the summer of 2021. I remember I was on my summer staycation from hell and had this feeling of numbness and shock in my body as I was doing my power walk and no song was hitting the spot for me to feel something. I was also having a lot of intrusive and negative thoughts at the time so I was trying to feel something, anything to get out of my head and stay safe. None of the music I was listening to was hitting the spot and then I decided to try my former angry playlist and Cut without the E came on and omg my anger came out in full force. It was like this weird gift from the universe because well, I finally felt something and it was powerful. It feels strange to say that rage felt empowering to me but it did. It knocked me out of my self pity and hardcore suicidal ideation into my anger phase of the grief I was in and it was what I needed at the time. It was the song I needed to get me through one of the hardest times in my life. Anyways, I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve listened to the album, “Tell All Your Friends” by Taking Back Sunday that summer. Then I rediscovered Brand New, and discovered Fallout Boy, Panic!At the Disco and the music really resonated with me. I always joke around with my friends that “maybe I just like these white boys yelling angry lyrics in my ear” lmao. But seriously, there is something about that white boy angst and anger that really hits the spot when I’m in a bad mood. Well, rap music also hits the spot but that’s another blog post. Lol. This summer I was actually lucky enough to see Taking Back Sunday with Third Eye Blind in concert with the same best friend who introduced me to TBS. It’s weird to say but it was one of the most joyous experiences of my life. It was one of the times when I was thankful of the intensity of emotions that comes with my BPD because when I’m happy, oh boy, it’s almost overwhelming but in a good way.
Below is a video of me in the summer of 2021 and the summer of 2022. There is a clear difference in both versions of me. I remember being so reactive and full of rage when I recorded the video where I’m in my room and immediately posting it on tik tok. I was in my “fuck the world” stage of grief. The video at the concert is me in this state of complete happiness and joy. I remember thinking “wow, I’m just really happy at this moment listening to this song. There is no room for anger in my heart”. It’s dramatic to say that it was cathartic for me but it was. To diminish that moment to something less than that would be invalidating what I felt at that moment.
Here is my spotify playlist of my favorite emo songs for your listening pleasure:
I wrote this poem in December of 2022.
This time it will be different-I lie to myself over and over again-
and for a while I’ll believe it-but it never works out and they always leave-
And I wonder how words fail me when this happens-
it’s a magnitude of emotions-
Intense, mega, uber, all consuming, overwhelming-
Some things cannot adequately expressed even with bilingual vocabulary-
maybe not everything is meant to be written down
it’s just meant to be felt, held intimately in my heart and mind
maybe it’s a private thing between me and the universe
I wrote this poem in December of 2022.
In my car-I scream, sing, write, and cry
I dissociate to my radio-blasting out Conan Gray
I can be as crazy I as want to be-
without the fear of being judged or talked about
the seat is molded to my petite frame
perfect for meditation
or for allowing myself to fall into my insanity
makes videos about how beautiful life is-
or how I no longer want to participate in it
my car used to feed into my deepest fears
and insecurities
but now I worship it
if it wasn’t for this sacred space away
from my office and home
I don’t know how I would cope
when the intensity of my thoughts
knock on my mind’s door
Aqui esta la version en espanol:
Poesia: Callar
our love dream has turned into a nightmare of stagnancy and routine
I walk carefully on eggshells to not disturb your peace so you don’t leave-
Is this how love is supposed to be?
More questions than answers, more confusion than clarity
More tears than laughter-
I want to stay for the sake of our family
but I’m starting to burn with resentment and anger
I wrote this poem in December of 2022.
fragments of who I was weave in and out of my prose and poetry-
I keep trying to honor the old me
when she comes back with my insecurities
and reminds me of how I constantly screw up anything
resembling love
I no longer shame her or call her the worst version of me-
she was just trying to navigate life not understanding
she was an undiagnosed hurricane of emotions-
that couldn’t control or manage
She didn’t go to therapy or know about DBT
And she’s still full of grief for the life she couldn’t live-
so she keeps on showing up trying to shake up
my newfound confidence and power
it’s her version of jealousy, and I walk with her for a while
Console her, and let her know how because of her
I did the work, and now she can feel happiness and joy through me
I will forever be grateful to her and pay tribute to her when I tell her story
here’s the english version of this poem:
Poetry: Refusal
quizás me precipite en tratar de terminar nuestro cuento de amor
es que no se que pensar o hacer cuando te alejas de mi
cuando me haces sentir como una caprichosa por querer mas tiempo contigo
por querer tener un poco de tu afección
como podemos reparar las palabras hirientes que te tire
porque ahora nos une el niño en mi vientre
y no quiero que él sea el producto de un hogar roto
porque nosotros no sabemos cómo comprendernos
I wrote this poem in December of 2022.
my transformation and rebirth meant giving voice to my shadow
who’s vindictive, petty, and mean
I’ve never really allowed her to breathe
much less be seen
and now she’s almost everywhere-
taking space in uncomfortable spaces
learning she’s not bad-
she just needed attention and to feel valued
I’ve finally accepted she’s an important part of me
who needs to be seen
aqui esta la version en espanol:
Poesia: Vete de Aqui
We’ve lost our beginner’s luck and now see who we really are
two incompatible souls too stubborn to be alone
and let go of our made up illusion of love
and between our uncomfortable silences,
your distant demeanor, and my growing resentment
it’s better to close our chapter of love
before I start to really hate you
let’s end this while we can still walk away as friends
I wrote this poem in December of 2022.
I’m tired of same repetitive compliments
You’re so pretty, so sexy and if they’re really “trying”
you’re BEAUTIFUL
but never in my life
have i been call a masterpiece, intelligent,
or have I been told that I inspire poetry?
and old lonely me would entertain
these flimsy lust or love possibilities
kept my standards low to keep my bed warm
and to escape my chronic emptiness
but after almost a year of solitude
my standards have been raised to the ceiling
and now I’m protective of my energy
anyone who wants to get near me
will have to make a solid effort
write me poetry, take me out to steak dinners
and buy me pretty dresses and notebooks
here’s the English version of this poem:
Poetry: Uncaring
prefiero un adiós honesto y con dignidad
que la farsa que estamos viviendo
prefiero terminar este cuento de dolor
donde tú finges ser mi principe azul
y yo finjo ser la princesa que tu tienes que salvar
lo único que estamos haciendo es evitar lo inevitable
admitir que lo de nosotros no va a ningun lado
Admitir nuestra incompatibilidad
y convertir nuestro cuento de amor
en un cuento de amistad
Life on the BPD 