
Poem of the Day: Hanged Woman



I knew I wanted to write a post for Borderline Personality Awareness month, but I didn’t know it would be this post-about having suicidal ideation once again. It’s hard to write about this since I haven’t been here since last summer. Here is a place where I want to do everything or anything to stop the intense emotional turmoil and pain, I’m in. Here is a place where I write dark poetry about ways to end it all. I mean my poetry got so dark; Sylvia Plath would have been proud of me. Here is a place where I cry multiple times a day and any little thing is a trigger, and my coworkers start asking me if I’m okay. Here is a place where it feels like none of the healthy coping mechanisms (writing, music, keeping busy, talking to friends, mindfulness, long walks in nature, etc.) are working and I started to wonder what the point of it all is. What’s worse about this happening this time around was that there was no tragedy or life changing circumstance to trigger these feelings of wanting to die. If I had to pinpoint the trigger of this major depressive episode, it was as simple as upping the dosage of my mood stabilizer. Now, I was already in a low mood since last week because my quality of sleep had gone to shit lately so last week, I asked my medical provider to up the dosage on my mood stabilizer that I take at night to sleep. I was also working an extra shift at my second job, so I was more tired than usual.

On Monday night, I started on the new dosage and on Tuesday morning I woke in a state of extreme anger and agitation. I’ve been here many times before but this time it felt different. Everything and everyone annoyed me to the point that I wrote some really mean and cruel poetry and played my ANGRY AF playlist on repeat. This was the alternative to what I really wanted to do, which was to punch walls or smash something to bits and pieces. I also imploded on myself and went into self-hate mode where I hated my brain chemistry, my BPD, and well basically myself. Being in this negative mindset felt like several steps backwards based on all the progress I’ve made and that made me spiral even more. I cried at lunch that day. I went to my second job and felt fine after.

On Wednesday, I felt I was in a better mood and thought I was in control of my emotions. I even wrote a poem about how my therapist was so instrumental in helping me. Then the afternoon came, and I got a rejection email from a grant I applied for that really hit me straight in the gut. Once again, I was extremely angry and agitated. And I almost went into my “I’m going to be reactive AF” mode. However, I was able to stop myself. I headed to my second job and cried on and off the first two hours of work while I was stocking. Luckily, I reached out to my friend “K” through text and she was responsive. Also, I was closely working with my supervisor the latter part of the night so that kept my mind busy. I ended up going to sleep later than I’m used to and woke up on Thursday a complete and utter emotional mess. Because of the state I was in, I made the responsible decision not to drive that day, but I still went to work. For the first two hours at work, I cried, and I couldn’t do anything to stop it. My coworkers kept asking me if I was okay and I lied and said I had a raging headache. I’m not completely out to the whole office yet about my BPD or all my mental health issues. Maybe they bought the lie or maybe they didn’t. Throughout the morning, I tried my best to practice mindfulness to calm down and it helped a little. Then I had a second cup of coffee and that did the trick because I was finally able to be coherent enough to chat with a couple of my coworkers. I want to think that my “masking skills” from the past really helped in making my coworkers not suspect how much of an emotional mess I was. I reached out to my friend “K” once again and other friends and they were all responsive so that helped. And then lunchtime came, and the dark and intrusive thoughts came out in my poetry, and I cried a lot. I guess getting the worst of it out helped because my mood improved in the afternoon. I decided to clean up and organize my office. I made a list of tasks to occupy me at work for the next few days. I made a separate list of tasks I wanted to accomplish in my personal life. I also decided to do something kind for myself and signed up for swimming lessons since I never learned how to swim. I went to my second job and that also kept me busy which helped me tremendously. On Friday, I woke up in a much better mood and drove to work. I felt this huge sense of relief, but I finally felt like I was back to what is now my normal optimistic and confident self. This sent me into a bit of euphoria that got me side eye from one of my coworkers. Lol. Okay, I know it’s kind of ridiculous for a middle-aged woman to get excited at the supermarket over cuatro leches cake and a sour patch energy drink but damn after a 3-day suicidal ideation episode, it’s the little things that count. I took the terrible experience as another way to learn about myself and maybe try more preventive measures next time I switched meds or upped a dosage.

I learned that my mental health was declining when I started listening to the same angry or sad song over and over again. I don’t know how many times I listened to “That’s Hilarious” by Charlie Puth last week. I also learn that when I’m in the worst of it, I need to listen to the “Fuck Love “album by The Kid LAROI. Don’t ask me why, something in my brain finds his teenage angst and anger comforting. I also learned how I dissociate during these episodes. It was like a watching this train wreck of emotions take over my body and mind and not being able to do much about it. It was difficult and scary to experience. The best thing I did was keep going to work at both jobs no matter what. I feel like this kept me busy enough from spiraling even further. Also, planning something to look forward to like scheduling swimming lessons was extremely helpful. Reaching out to friends about how I was feeling bad and getting their love and encouragement helped me as well. And of course, understanding that the feelings of hopelessness and despair won’t last forever and honoring those feelings through journaling and writing poetry is important. For some reason, documenting what’s going on helps me process and get through an episode like this quicker. When I get into a major depressive episode that causes suicidal ideation, it gets scary and lonely. Having a diagnosis like borderline personality disorder makes me 1 in 10 people who could give in to that hopelessness and take action to take my own life. Even at my worst, there is a voice inside of me that is determined not to be that 1 in 10 because well, I’m too awesome to die. Also, if anything else, I don’t want to do that to my children and leave them with that trauma. I’m proud of how I handled this depressive episode. I listened to myself and used all the resources I had to get over it quicker. I remember that last year and the year before then, I had many of these episodes and would either try to drink it away or buy something from Amazon or do something self-destructive. I didn’t do that this time around. The fact that it’s been 10 months since this happened shows how much my mental health has improved. For anyone going through this, understand that you’re not alone and it’s okay to feel how you feel. The important thing is to keep going because even if it doesn’t feel like it at the time, there will always be something in life to look forward to or get excited about. It could be new food to taste or that new album from your favorite artist that’s about to come out, or even seeing a rainbow after it rains.

Below are links for mental health resources:
Suicide Prevention Line:
Find a Therapist:
DBT: Mindfulness
Understanding the Link between Borderline Personality Disorder and Suicide

I wrote this in May of 2003 when I was depressed. At the time, I didn’t think about getting help. I also didn’t understand what was happening to me. No one knew because I had become a master as masking my emotions. Instead poetry was my therapy.

The sadness creeps up on me
like a wild animal
upon its prey
Slowly but surely
I become all too quickly
Miserable again
I ponder the question
Why, why, WHY?
I am young and healthy
Yet I begin to feel
like I’m slipping on thin ice
and what scares me the most
is
I DON”T KNOW WHY?
I wrote this in January of 2003 about Lucas. I was still obsessing about him.

Your love was a lost cause
when it was her you chose
but at night I still toss and turn
wondering why it wasn’t me you yearned
Was it the hurtful fact?
You wanted to keep your life intact
Or was it because
I wasn’t good enough
To make the ultimate sacrifice
to leave your perfect and fake life
I wrote this in 2019 when I was reflecting about the way men have often objectified in a way that they almost always seem to just want the fun and sexy part of me but seem to often have problems seeing the rest of me. I’ve almost always felt like I’ve been good enough to be their lover but never good enough to be introduced to their mother. Do I still feel this way? I honestly don’t know. I like the attention and validation I get from men because of my looks but sometimes it feels so hollow.


Tell me I’m pretty, tell me I’m sexy
Tell me I’m beautiful
Objectify me, fuck me,
Forget about me
And then
Try to come back to me
And when I deny
your lust filled request,
Put me down, threaten me
Try to hurt me-
Your words mean nothing to me
You’re not the first
But will be the last
Who tries to destroy me
You’re not the first
But will be the last
Who treats me like a doll
to fuck at your convenience
You’re not the first
But will be the last
That tells me I’m not good enough
Tell me you miss, tell me you want me
Tell me you’re sorry
Be persistent in your quest
In trying to get me in your bed
with empty promises
about how this time it will be different
Sorry to my past, my present, and
future lovers-
I am pass being the girl
that’s just used for fun-
I am pass being the lover
you never introduce to your mother
I’d rather live in a world
of solitude and calm
than to once again fall
into the objectification trap
I wrote this in 2002 about Matt. I think that the experience with him really put any residual abandonment issues from my childhood to the forefront. Interactions with him throughout my son’s childhood were hard emotionally for me for this reason.

We meet once again
And you pretend to be my friend
Like nothing ever happened
Like I forgot you never took a stand?
To be a father to our son
How can you be so damn dumb?
How could it have taken you so long?
To finally admit you were wrong
But I’ll forgive you
But I won’t ever forget the hell
you put us through
Just remember
It can never go back
To the way we once were
I wrote this in June of 2002 about Ron. It was a rough breakup to say the least. He was definitely justified in his feelings of anger towards and to respond the way he did. While I won’t say whether or not I deserved the 5 scathing emails I received after filled with insults, pain, and hate, I’m glad he did it . Maybe it made him feel better and/or gave him a sense of closure. He wasn’t being crazy, he was being human.

Sorry to have broken your unwavering trust
but I had to get away from us
I never meant to hurt you
But our goodbye was long overdue
One of us had to do it eventually
Unfortunately it had be me
I hope one day you understand
Why our love,from day one was damned
And you’ll finally realize
My choice was really wise
I’m not sure which ex I wrote this about but this is the general feeling I have when a relationship is going well. My anxiety goes up and I catastrophized. This was written in 2000.

I am scared
That my heart will tear
I am worried
One day you’ll be sorry
I’m so frightened
It’s just a matter of when
I am just tired
After so many liars
My mind is stuck
Thinking you just want to fuck
I am careful
Trying to not end up a fool
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.

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
I wrote this in the summer of 2019 during a break from “C”. I think that during this break, I thought we were really done and I was super salty about it.

To the one that claimed to love me
I was yours, you had me
But you decided to dispose of me
I wrote poetry about you
Thinking your feelings were true
But my feelings, you made fun of
By claiming you felt love
You treated me like a barbie doll
And you told me over and over and over again
I love you
When your words should have been
I love fucking you
You claimed to not be “that guy”
Yet you almost made me want to die
You claimed to be different
But you turned out to be the same
Asshole man
You claimed I was the only one
But I was one of many you used for fun
You acted like you cared
You wore your lies well
And now that our lust filled
Fiasco is done
I still don’t regret that I was the one
Who loved you honestly, genuinely,
Purely-
And you blew your chance
At ever having me
You were a hard lesson to learn
And I was the girl
You weren’t ready for
So I’ve been in denial for the past few weeks. I haven’t been keeping up with the COVID numbers as I usually do and have been ignoring the news about this new Delta variant of COVID. Last year, COVID basically consumed most of my life since I was an essential worker for the Department of Public Health and Kroger.

It was basically an adrenaline rush that kept going strong with constant policy changes at both jobs until October/November and there was peace and almost going back to normalcy until late December when the COVID vaccination phases started. During this time, this took a toll on the mental health of me and my fellow coworkers. There were times that were so dark for me, that I wondered on some mornings if it would be the day I would be committed to the psych ward.

However, I was super fortunate to have support from friends and my then supportive partner during that awful time. I was also seeing Mr.Toxic who was my pandemic buddy who I would freak out with every time something new happened with the virus. Up until a few weeks ago, things had basically gone back to normal at both my jobs. Masks were basically a thing of the past (well for us that are fully vaccinated) and I wasn’t getting any calls about Covid.

That changed this past week when once again the numbers are rocketing out of control with the Delta Variant. I also started getting calls again about Covid at my DPH job and once again masks have enforced for all employees at both of my jobs

At this point I’m honestly anxious about quite a few things:
It will be interesting to see how all of this will play out with the new surge. I hope that the new administration will be way more proactive than the previous one. I also hope that mental healthcare ends up being more accessible to the general population because a lot of us will need it.
Below is the link for the COVID related post from last year:
It’s really hard to be vulnerable in this space but somehow I feel safe. Maybe it’s the lack of carbs along with almost a bottle of champagne and the almost anonymity. For the first time in a long time, I’m doing pretty good in life. I’m making this busy life of working almost 80 hours a week work for me with 3 kids, a great potential partner, a soon to be ex who’s my best friend/roommate, and the best friends any gal can find. I’m not failing at both of my jobs. In fact, I’m killing it and even had some “unusual” success at my second job. The guy that’s been my in my life for almost the past 4 months, has slowly moved from friendzone to something more last month and well he’s being very patient with my skittish behavior and my busy schedule. The second date and the last time we saw each other, he looked at me like I was magic and to be honest, it scared the shit out of me. So much of me wants to run away because I’ve never encountered someone that just wanted to really know me. Usually dudes, just put up this pretense of wanting to know the “real me” because they really want to be laid by someone “exotic” like me. Even, my soon to be ex husband pulled this trick. Haha. Do I blame them? Nah, It’s human nature to want to get laid, especially for guys. But, “A”, new dude, he’s different. He checks all of my potential great partner boxes and yet, I want to run. Maybe I’m scared of happiness finding me because I know how fleeting it can be.
Which leads me as to why I’m writing this post at midnight while kind of drunk as I listen to the saddest and cheesiest pop songs ( Hello Selena Gomez, Camila Cabello, Adriana Grande and my favorite, Ariana Grande…etc-you get the point-haha). I finally said goodbye tonight to the fuckboi that has been haunting my life for almost 2 years on my own terms. To explain our story, well, you can look back on other posts and angst ridden/love poetry. Two words to describe our long term situationship, intense and toxic. It’s a cliché but I never knew I could feel such intense hate and love for someone until I met him. I was F.Scott and he was my Zelda, my muse, my long term obsession. The last time we had a falling out, he ghosted me for 3 months and you guessed it, he came back the day after I had my second date with “A”. It’s like he senses when I’m happy or almost happy and comes back to cause chaos in my life. And my masochist tendencies went to see him even though I know our story always ends up in devastation for me. And even though, I was angry with him and I hate him, somehow I still wound up in bed with him. I knew that night like I knew the first night I was with him, I love him and part of that is that when I’m with him, he makes me feel like I belong to him. I’ve never felt that with anyone. It’s intoxicating and addictive and hard to give up, obviously.
However, the sex, the chemistry, the love I feel for him will never be enough for us to make things work, for him to change into the partner I deserve. I’ve known this for a while but hung on to hope looking for signs that maybe he would change if I “stayed” long enough tolerating his narcissistic bullshit and the awful way he treated me. It’s amazing how love can make one so foolish and dumb. I recognize and am aware in my own part in this toxic mess we both ended up making for 2 years. And even though I recognize the toxicity of whatever I have/had with him, it’s still hard to let go. It’s hard to let go of the fact that maybe I won’t feel this with anyone else. But then I tell myself, I don’t want to feel like this with anyone else. It’s crazy, toxic, and makes me lose all of my common sense. So tonight after I texted him “Goodbye” for the last time, I allowed myself to drink, have a mini breakdown, and isolate myself from my friends. I’m not even grieving him or the potential of the great love story we could have been, I gave up on that idea a long time ago.
Tonight, I’m allowing myself to just really move forward from him and start a new chapter where he no longer takes up space in my universe. Tonight, I allow myself to feel that I do indeed deserve all of the success professionally I encounter. Tonight, I allow myself to acknowledge that I do deserve someone like “A’ who values me more than just a girl he can fuck. And even if things end with him, I can hold on to the hope that there is someone out there for me that really sees me and believes I am indeed magic. I’m never again settling for kinda half ass effort just because the connection/chemistry is off the charts.