A Decade of Blogging

sums up my decade

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.

these are just a few of my journals and well Sylvia Plath is of course one of my favorite poets

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.

so I kept writing

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.

Here’s to 10 more years of writing about my vida loca

Poetry: Maybe

Maybe I am the girl version of Joe Goldberg after all. LMAO. Of course, this was written about the great breakup of 2001.

Maybe I am sad
finding out you were such a cad
Maybe I am blue
Knowing you were never true
Maybe I was too blind to see
you weren’t really into me
Maybe I was a fool
To never have seen past your bull
Maybe I am done
With guys like you using me for fun
Maybe just maybe I can get past all this
Knowing one day you’ll have to pay for this

Poetry: Ambiguity

I wrote this in December 2001 after seeing my ex “S” from the “great breakup of 2001”. I saw him at mall while I was shopping. I remember not being able to breathe and having to get out of there.

forgiveness is hard

I was minding my own business
when I came upon your ugly face
I started right away to get restless
Thinking how you had been such a fucking waste
I hope you didn’t notice
How I had forgotten to breathe
How the memory of your kiss
Came back to me
That’s when I had to turn around and leave

Poetry: My Love Murderer

This was the second poem I wrote in December of 2001 inspired after seeing my ex “S” at the mall. I was still feeling all of those raw emotions after this breakup when I wrote this. Looking back on it, I’m glad that at the time, I took my emotions out on paper instead of finding other means of escape with alcohol or someone else.

There you were
In front of me
My love murderer
I wanted to yell and scream
and say
You are the most deceitful, lying, scum king
I wanted to throw at you my fist
with all my might
And punch those lips I had once kissed
I wanted to kill you with a look
that said
You bastard, look at how much you took away from me
Instead, I had to walk away
and take back with me
All I wanted to do or say

Poetry: Pride

I wrote this about the great breakup of 2001. I guess part of the reason why I reacted the way I did was because my ego took a big hit. I mean, I’m already a person that has identity and self esteem issues and each breakup triggers a feeling of worthlessness inside that’s hard to get rid of.

So true

You’ll never know
How much you’ve hurt me so
You’ll never see
The mess you’ve made of me
You’ll never hear
The words β€œ I love you dear”
You’ll never ever find out
That loving you was what I was about

For I am too damn proud
To admit I was a fool out loud
For I have too much pride
To ever let you see me cry
For I have too much dignity
To ever let you return to me
For I have too much respect
To ever let you turn me into a wreck

Poetry: Big Lie

This is yet another poem inspired by the great breakup of 2001. Most likely, I wrote this poem right after it happened as I still raw processing what happened.

Big Lie

I was stubborn
and I got burned
by not believing
that you were deceiving
there were many signs
but my heart refused to resign
it didn’t want to conceive of the notion
that your love was a distortion
now I sit in disbelief
at how wrong you done me
I’m so much better off I know
even though it’s almost impossible to let you go
so it’s forever goodbye
to your twisted love that was a big lie

Poetry: Excuses

This was another poem about Paul. The first guy that would break my heart via email. I still don’t understand what was so hard about picking up the phone. Then, again, I might be a hypocrite saying that. Lol.

Where is the lie tho?

I need to be alone right now
was your excuse
Never your intention to hurt me
Was what you said
I’m still in love with her
was what you meant
Meaningless piece of ass
was what I meant to you

Poetry: Sea of Misery

I wrote this in 2001 about my ex Paul after he broke up with me via email after a couple of months dating. This is the last of the poems about Paul. Here is my blog post about my story with him:

https://rejectingstagnationafter.wordpress.com/?p=2052

Well, well, well
Here I am
Drowning in a sea of misery
Because of your selfish and miserable self

Thank you for all
the hell you have put me through

Glad I was used
As meaningless tool
To realize how much
Another meant to you

Nightmare of deceit, betrayal, and lies
was what was behind all of those dreamlike kisses,
Beautiful words and caresses

Poetry: I Thought

Another poem written about the great breakup of 2001. This is a great example of my black and white thinking that comes with having BPD. LMAO.

Me with my nephew in 2001 around the time I wrote this poem

I thought you were kind
I never thought you would destroy after a short time
I thought you loved me
I never thought you would betray me
I thought we were meant to be
I never thought you would cheat on me
I thought I was the only one you cared about
I never thought lying was what you were about
I thought you were my dream come true
I never thought you weren’t being true
I thought I could put my trust in you
I never thought you would make me so blue

Poetry: Why Did You?

Another poem I wrote about the great breakup of 2001. Who knew that more than 20 years later, it would just be great blog content. Lol.

Ugh..this is me

Why did you have to be
so painful for me?
Why did it take me so long
To find out you were doing me so wrong
Why did you have to such a waste
And leave my mouth with such a bitter taste
Why did you have to put on such a good show
I still can’t believe somebody could stoop so low
Why did you have to make my heart so sore
I don’t think i can stand the pain anymore
Why did you have to show up
And be such a damn fuck up

Poetry: Pathetic Asshole

I wrote this about my friend Sam after I found out that he tried to sleep with my sister. I was furious after this happened but it was also kind of funny. So Sam put the moves on my poor recently separated and vulnerable sister. Well–according to my sister, when they were getting to the good part, his equipment wouldn’t work. At all. Haha. This is the last of the poems about Sam. He does make an appearance in my life in either 2018 or 2019 when I looked him up on Facebook and impulsively messaged him. Surprisingly, he responded but nothing came of it. I think that while the idea of him seemed nice, putting that much effort again into a former fuckboy didn’t feel worth it all.

I thought you should be told
that you are a pathetic asshole
You will never go anywhere
By not playing fair
You have no fucking respect
I wish we had never met
How could you lie to me?
Can’t you see
I thought we were friends
But now you’ve become my fiend
I hope I never hear your fucking voice
Or see your fucking face
I wish you unhappiness
and many years of misery

Poetry: Fun is Gone

I wrote this in 1998 about my pregnancy. I wrote this after telling my traditional and catholic parents I was pregnant. I was six months along and went into a deep depression afterwards that lasted maybe a year after the birth of my first child. Yes, I was a teen mom with post partum depression and there wasn’t much anyone could do at the time. I still got up to go to school and took care of my child. My life was no longer just about me, I was responsible for another life. Maybe that’s when I learned to mask so well. I learned to show up no matter what. On the upside, I had really supportive parents who were for me when they could have abandoned me. On the downside, some of my closest friends did. Sometimes I wonder if going through something this traumatic did stunted my maturity in some areas.

me at 17 around the time I wrote this poem

No more fun
No more just β€œlying in the sun”
Dirty diapers and Barney
Will sum up the next few years for me
No more hanging out with friends
No more having tons of boyfriends
Strollers and snotty noses
Will be how my adolescence closes

Poetry: Miserable Memories

I wrote this in 2002 after a trip to California. That trip was strange for me. I was filled with nostalgia but also felt triggered by revisiting traumatic parts of my childhood during that trip. I did make peace with my past during that trip. I don’t talk much about my childhood because of the trauma attached to it but I think I need to. We should talk about the things that are hard to talk about. I believe that my childhood trauma played a big part in me having BPD.

The 2 bedroom apt I grew up in from ages 5 to 11
My aunt, me and my grandmother during that trip. My aunt was not a nice lady BUT thats another blog post .

Gone back to my old miserable childhood world
Everything has changed and yet remains the same
Old memories I had buried in the back of my mind
Come crawling back to the surface
Of the pain, poverty, and misery
That scared little girl emerges once again
But this time as a brave woman
To proclaim that she is no longer
Frightened by the people who caused her so much hurt

Poetry: Cheater

I wrote this poem in 2001. It’s another poem about the “great breakup” of 2001. I think part of the reason I took that breakup so hard was that I had idealized that relationship thinking finally I found the one. Lol. I was just really tired of jumping into relationships time after time and them not working out.

Yeah..I was mad..lol

I thought I was the only one
in your heart
I never thought that the time would come
when you’d say β€œIt’s time we part”
It never crossed my mind
that there was somebody else
I always thought you were only mine
I thought we had more time

Poetry: Tired

I wrote this in 2002 when I was stressed out with things going on in my personal life and at work. Everything felt so overwhelming at the time. It was exhausting and stressful trying to balance everything and everyone in my life and this would be a theme that would continually show up in my life.

Me when I wrote this poem…lol

I’m so tired of all of this crap
I’m ready to give up
And stop playing whatever
this game is called
My eyes are so sleepy
And my body aches to rest
What good comes out of anything
is tarnished by impulsive desires
Nothing is pure or sacred anymore
Your friends are also your worst enemies
Your lovers are also the ones
that make you miserable
Something has to be figured
Because I can’t keep playing this game
This way, no more