12 years of blogging–WHAT!!!

me and the evil Christmas Tree invading my writing space

As I sit here squished in my writing space because the damn Christmas tree is taking up the other side of the room, I still feel incredibly blessed and fortunate that I’m writing this post about how the 11th year of blogging was. To still be here telling my story though this platform with the most incredible followers is a true blessing. To the many people who have been supportive of me as I vomit out some of the cringiest and craziest shit, y’all are the real MVPs. I feel so encouraged and loved by every like or comment. I would say that it was a low key year because I didn’t experiment as much as I wanted to. What I did do is tell my story from January of 2022 through December of 2022 with my poetry along with my translated poems from my early writing days. I’ve translated a total of 215 pages of poetry from 1997 to 2004. It’s been a challenge for sure but it was important for me to take on this project because it allows me to reconnect with my first language in a creative way. Also, my main purpose for taking on this project is because I’d love for my parents and other Spanish speaking relatives in Peru to be able to read my poetry. I’d even started putting some of these poems on tik tok which has been somewhat of an interesting experiment considering I don’t know what I’m doing and still figuring out the best way to create content there. I guess one could say that I’m passionate about telling my story. Here’s my tiktok handle if y’all want to check it out: https://www.tiktok.com/@lagringachola81

Another new thing I did this year is start using my real name on this blog and across all of my social media. After my divorce, aka, my liberation day, I was finally able to let go of my pseudonym Eliza Dalton and use my real name Patty Tacuri. So, hi everyone, my name is Patty and I have issues. I love to use that opening line at open mic. Lol.

hi, it’s me Patty, your little piece of heaven or hell—lol

I’ve also been going to open mic at my local pub and it’s helped me connect with other poets which has helped me grow as a writer and poet. Being up there on that stage sharing the most vulnerable parts of myself has felt incredibly empowering and healing. I’m grateful to the Athens Word of Mouth community who’s been so open and receptive to whatever trauma laden or angry poem I decide to read that night.

me at open mic on December 6,2023 -photo from Athens Word of Mouth

As to what kind of blog content I have planned for 2024, I plan to leave the format as it is in telling my story of 2023 and including the translated pieces in between those poems. I hope that I can do more collaborations and review some more poetry books. I don’t have much more planned than that but who knows, sometimes my crazy mind comes up with the most off the wall ideas and an unexpected playlist or an essay about some kind of trauma happens. I know that in 2024, I want to be more open and vulnerable in telling my story and how my recovery journey has been going. We’ll see what happens. I can tell you that this blog is my happy place and something that keeps me going when my depression wants to get the better of me. Planning blog content this year has kept me grounded more times than I can count this year especially with some of the big emotions that have come up with the major life events I’ve had. It’s become part of my recovery process from mental illness and a safe space for me to be honest and vulnerable. Also, since I’m such a main character now, haha, I decided to give y’all a preview about what’s to come next year in telling my story. I’m calling it the twelve days of Patty starting on December 20th. Again, I want to thank everyone who takes the time to read my crazy and sometimes cringe poetry. To my fellow bloggers, poets,and storytellers-my message for you is to keep going! Your art and stories are important!

A Year Since My Diagnosis: The Middle-Therapy Works

Around September,I started to logically understand how out of control my behavior was at times. The strange thing about it is it doesn’t feel like me when I’m acting that way. I’m a person who has always tried to have control over all aspects of my life. For example, when I was first diagnosed, I was naive enough to think that I could somehow “fast-track my healing” . I quickly learned that’s not how healing or therapy works. It didn’t matter how quickly I read my DBT workbook or did the exercises from there, how many poems I wrote about grief in one day, or how many healthy coping mechanisms I picked up along the way; healing and changing my behavior was going to take time and patience. I couldn’t speed up the process if I truly wanted to get better.

that DBT workbook I’ve started 5 times and I still can’t get past chapter 8-lol

I needed to learn to sit with my grief, anger, mania, self-hatred, and any other uncomfortable and painful emotions and learn a healthy way to process and cope with them instead of chasing it away with booze, sex, or binge shopping. It’s been hard to do, and I’ve stumbled along the way and have made many mistakes. One thing I’ve learned this year is that changing unhealthy patterns in my behavior had to be the most arduous and difficult work I’ve ever done. For example, maybe one day I’m feeling fat and ugly, the old me would have gone binge shopping on Amazon for a pretty dress or reached out to one of the casual Joes in my life for validation; the new and healthy version of me had to ask myself the whys of why I’m feeling fat and ugly and what triggered this reaction in me, do I need to write about it, what can I do to make myself feel better that doesn’t involved shopping or the validation from others? It’s way harder to face my insecurities head on than chase them away with a quick and temporary adrenaline rush or serotonin fix. Throughout all this it helped to have an incredible support system who gave me what I needed emotionally to process, grow and move forward in my journey. Part of that support system was my therapist who was kind, compassionate, knowledgeable, and patient with me. I was really tough to deal with at times and I wanted to break up with her at times cause she pushed me a lot when it came to my driving phobia. I remember having a panic attack in front of her because of a driving exposure but she calmed me down enough so I could do it. I got paranoid after thinking she would leave me but she didn’t. She stuck by me through the end of our therapy sessions in January of this year. The few times I’d missed a session, she would call me to check in and talk to me for at least 10 minutes to make sure I was okay. She was also respectful of me and my experiences. I’ve had therapists in the past who talked down to me and were condescending and she wasn’t one of them. People talk about finding “the one” at the “right time”; well in my case, I found the “right therapist” at the “right time” in my life. Here is a poem I wrote about her:

The Healer

From September to January, there was so much progress in my healing and mental health journey thanks to having the adequate resources and tools because of my therapist. I did beat a driving phobia (but that’s a story I’ll tell in depth later on) and I was free from suicidal ideation until May of this year. What was strange to me during these months was how I was learning to really live and enjoy my life. I remember that before my diagnosis, I’d get annoyed sometimes at having to spend time with my kids. During the months of September to December, something switched in me to have this new appreciation for motherhood and spending time with my children. My relationship with my three sons got better and I grew closer to them. I feel like I’m finally the mom my children deserve.
Here is a poem I wrote about them:

My Three Kings

My first king, I met at 17
when the nurse placed
an alien like being in my arms
She was like “feed him”
and I was like “how do I do that?”
What should I do with him?
Eventually I figured it out

My second king, I met at 24
as a birthday present, just like me
he had to make a dramatic entrance
but it was love at first sight
No one could take him from my arms
I knew what to do

My third king, I met at 30
He was a dream delivered
After a dream lost the previous year
He was planned, he was awaited, he was loved
He was welcome by everyone
with him, I felt a completion of love

1/24/2022

As I’ve also mentioned, my therapy sessions ended in January and after that I was on my own with my maintenance plan making sure I didn’t do anything to sabotage the progress I had made.

Video taken 1/5/22 and 1/16/22-during this time, I really started to thrive-it felt like years of progress within a span of 6 months

to be continued…

Poetry :Religion

I wrote this poem in January of this year

Me at open mic on 6/7/23



My lack of worth of self-esteem allowed me to accept
not even the bare minimum from lovers
as long as they showed any interest in me,
any sign of wanting me, I’d give them my energy
made them the muse of my poetry
put them on a pedestal where I worshiped them like a deity
and made what I mistook for love my religion
thought each one was the one because of my inability to find self-love
it was the version of me who thought the world began and ended
with the love of a man
It was the version of me who didn’t know that alone
I had always been whole, I had always been enough

Poesia: Alejandro Sanz

Here is the English version of this poem:

https://lifeonthebpd.com/2021/12/30/poetry-precious-moments/

Al escuchar aquella canción de Alejandro Sanz
Me visita la nostalgia de nosotros y me pongo a llorar
y casi te llamo pero-me controlo
necesito para esta obsession contigo,
Quisiera poder olvidarte
pero, pero, pero no puedo pelear
el amor que todavia siento por ti

Happy 11 Years of Blogging

The 10th year of blogging brought a lot of progress and growth in my life. As I write this, I’m excited to say that I’m in a really good place in my life. I’m proud that I’ve been consistent in posting content on almost a daily basis and have continued to challenge myself as a writer and content creator. When I have asked people what they think about the blog, they tell me “it’s honest” and “you really don’t hold back”. Some people don’t believe that everything I share is the truth because it’s so crazy. Well, sometimes my life does feel stranger than fiction. But, at least I’m never bored, right? One thing I started to do this year is translate all of my poetry whether the original poem was in Spanish or English. One of my favorite poems I translated is this one:

Happy Halloween! What’s scarier than a regular bitch?

I’ve also revised a lot of my old poems. This year, I’ve also grown a lot as a writer. In a few months, I can finally say I’m a published author. I will share the links to those books as they come out.

I can also say that I’m a much different person than the person who wrote this blog post this time last year:

A Decade of Blogging

I’ve let go a lot of the anger, shame, and guilt I felt from my trauma. It was a combination of therapy, a new level of introspection, and having a new appreciation for my life. I think last year when I restarted this blog, I was alternating between a state of anger, grief, and mania. I wanted to be as honest as I could be and I gave no fucks about the opinions of others. Also, as I was revisiting some of my older poems, it brought up trauma and well the anger came out in full force . I was also trying to find who I was beneath all of these years of unprocessed trauma. Add all this to the fact that I changed to hormonal birth control that made me even more angry and it was like a hurricane of emotions I tried to surf but sometimes couldn’t control.

I’m still going to continue telling my story but I’m skipping to December of 2021. There was a lot of poetry and stories I wrote from 2018 to November of 2021 and some of it I have shared on this blog already. The time frame I’m skipping is also the period of time when my BPD was at its worst and to put it mildly, I was an emotional train wreck. Sharing that version of me doesn’t feel right to me at this time. Also, I think that from December of 2021 to now is when my real recovery from BPD started and I wrote poetry on an almost daily basis.It’s going to be a challenge deciding which poems are going to end up on this blog. As I go through this recovery journey from my BPD, I’m understanding that I can still process and honor my trauma without having to share it on this blog or social media.

The direction of the blog is also going to move towards collaborations with other content creators, writers, and guest bloggers. So if you have a story, opinion piece, an essay, or poem you want to share with the world, feel free to contact me. I’m open to most topics. Also, you can use a pseudonym or be completely anonymous. I invite you to share your passion or anger or whatever message you want to send out there to the world through my blog! The cringier and more emotional, the better. Lol. Below is link to my contact info:

Contact Info

Lastly, thank you to all of my followers and everyone who reads, takes the time to read, and like my brand of crazy. I’m humbled every time I get a comment or a like on one of my posts. The fact that this blog has grown exponentially from 17 followers in July of 2021. This means I’m doing something right. Thank you for allowing me to have this platform to be my most vulnerable, craziest, saltiest, and authentic self.

Poetry: The Ultimate Queen

I wrote this in December of 2021.

And those flames burn 🔥 😍

At 40, I feel like the ultimate Queen
after losing layers and layers of my princess skin
The broken princess I had to beat
to finally feel enough and complete
Friends and men full of duplicity
Have no place in my world of authenticity
I no longer wear my crown of guilt and shame
It caused me too much emotional pain
Instead I wear a crown of confidence and power
being true to myself is my superpower
Fuck anyone who thinks I’m too much or not enough
You assholes were never deserving of my love
I am the ultimate Queen
and I’m finally making myself seen

Poetry: Forgotten Magic

I wrote this in December of 2021.

me on my run in December of 2021

There is a certain magic in nature I forget about
Feeling the wind in your face running
while listening to my favorite song
It reminds me what a gift it is to be alive

Observing the miniature toad in the creek that hasn’t
been washed away by the many harsh elements around it;
It gives me hope I too can survive the really hard times,

Smelling the rain before a storm,there will be a rainbow after it
that is how life is, there are better times after the worst of times

Poetry: A Letter to My Previous Muses

I wrote this in December of 2021.

Maybe I was too harsh with my words
Frustrated with rejection and abandonment
I was filled with anger and resentment
that needed to bleed on paper
Maybe I’ve been too much of a critic
Cutting you down with petty words and insults
Perhaps I was projecting my own insecurities
Maybe I should have taken some of the blame
of your unexpected departures
I know I’m not an easy woman to be with
often times I’m too emotional and needy
And maybe, just maybe
I forgive all of you and me
We were all trying our best to love and be loved
And sometimes even our best isn’t enough

December Poetry Challenge: Mornings

This was my response to prompt: Your favorite part of the day

mornings used to bother me
and made me so grouchy
now I wake up excited every morning
about the unseen possibilities
Will it be a day full of calm and routine
where I’m inspired to write about a poem
about serenity?
Or will it be a day full of drama and chaos
that turns my poetic voice into something
resembling anger and sorrow?
mornings fill me up with the excitement
with the hidden potential of it

Un año desde Mi Diagnostico de TLP/Borderline: Parte 1

Fotos de mi desde Junio a Julio de 2021-fue una epoca loca

Ha pasado un año desde que recibí mi diagnóstico de trastorno límite de la personalidad que cambió mi vida. Comencé a ir a terapia a fines de junio y tuve que hacer una evaluación de salud mental de 3 horas en dos sesiones separadas donde mi terapeuta me hizo preguntas sobre traumas pasados y patrones de comportamiento pasados. Fue una semana muy difícil emocionalmente para mí debido a eso y otras cosas personales que estaban sucediendo en mi vida. Me senté frente a mi terapeuta mientras explicaba cómo el diagnóstico de trastorno límite de la personalidad terminó en mi mapa conceptual. Mi reacción fue de entumecimiento y conmoción. Y luego cometí el error de ir a Internet y buscarlo y bueno TLP tiene una mala reputación por una buena razón. Después de leer todas las cosas malas sobre el TLP, pensé: “Sabía que tenía problemas y estaba un poco desordenado, pero no esperaba estar tan jodida, tan rota”. No ayuda que un par de cosas que se destacan en Internet sobre el TLP sea “El TLP es el trastorno mental más doloroso” O “Las personas con TLP son manipuladoras” o “Algunas personas con TLP son incapaces de amar”. No ayudó que en el momento en que me diagnosticaron, también estaba teniendo un colapso mental y estaba pasando por un mal momento con mi pareja romántica. Cuando les conté a mis amigos y familiares sobre mi diagnóstico, la mayoría de ellos me apoyaron y alentaron, pero algunos lo negaron y no lo aceptaron por completo. Me dijeron “no podría tener TLP porque no soy tan horrible” o que “no es gran cosa”.

Un par de semanas después de mi diagnóstico, mi pareja rompió conmigo. Mientras no voy a entrar en detalles sobre los eventos que condujo a la ruptura de esa relación; diré que el último día que vi a mi ex, hubo un par de cosas que me dijo que realmente me impactaron y me hicieron contemplar mi realidad de una manera honesta. La ruptura realmente validó mis peores temores sobre mí mismo, “Soy difícil de amar”, “Siempre voy a ser demasiado inestable emocionalmente para estar en una relación” “No merezco amor” “Siempre jodo todo lo bueno en mi vida” “Estoy demasiado jodida y rota para ser amada”, etc., etc. Todos ustedes han leído la poesía y las historias sobre cómo nunca he manejado bien las rupturas amorosas. Entonces, estaba acostada en mi cama llorando y pensando todas estas cosas y no quería levantarme. Estaba de vacaciones cuando esto sucedió, así que podría haberme quedado en la cama todo el día y nada. Sin embargo, algo me dijo que siguiera adelante y me levantara. El resto del mes de julio es un borrón para mí. Documenté a través de un video y un diario lo que hice y lo que estaba pensando, así que sé lo que hice, pero hay partes de ese mes que no recuerdo haber vivido. Sé que me mantuve al día con mis citas de terapia y trabajé todos los días y escribí. Otra cosa que tenía que hacer era llevar una tarjeta de diario monitoreando mis emociones y cualquier situación que sacara emociones fuertes en mí. Las principales emociones que sentí los meses de julio, agosto y septiembre fueron la ira, la tristeza y la desesperación, por lo que llenar mi tarjeta del diario fue una tarea, pero también necesaria para mejorar en el manejo de la vida. Algo que mi terapeuta actual dijo en la terapia de grupo fue “cómo el dolor hace que uno haga un balance de la vida y cómo la está viviendo”. Después de la ruptura, aunque sí, sentí este inmenso dolor por esa situación, también sentí dolor y enojo por otros eventos traumáticos en mi vida de los que no me había curado. Era como si tuviera este armario lleno de traumas sin procesar que estaba a punto de abrirse en cualquier momento y en julio, la puerta se abrió de par en par y salió bien, casi todo lo que mantenía dentro de mí que llevaba bien escondida. La vergüenza, la culpa, la ira, la furia, la desesperación, la tristeza por traumas pasados fueron sentimientos con los que me familiaricé bien durante esos primeros tres meses. Me sentí atrapada a veces en esta niebla emocional, pero de alguna manera seguí adelante. Continuamente me preguntaba cuál era el propósito de todo mi arduo trabajo y al principio era para no explotar con ira en frente de mis hijos como lo había hecho con otras personas en mi pasado. También tuve que aprender un nuevo idioma con mi diagnóstico de TLP. Sé que suena raro, pero con todas las nuevas palabras de vocabulario que se me lanzan, es lo que se sintió. En junio y julio, aprendí muy rápido lo que disociación, enmascarar y dividir fue porque eso es básicamente lo que hice esos meses. También aprendí el término hipersexualidad que he abordado en algunas de mis publicaciones y poesía en este blog. Reflexionando sobre todo lo que he aprendido, puedo entender cómo mi comportamiento puede parecer aterrador para algunas personas. He entendido cuánto mi comportamiento errático e impulsivo ha impactado enormemente mi vida.

A Continuacion….

Poetry: Darkness

Para la versión en español de este poema, haga clic en este enlace:

Poesia: La Oscuridad

You left me in an eternal darkness
Without any compassion, without any humanity
You caused me an infinite pain
with your malicious and false ways
You left me in a world of insecurity
How can I trust ever again?
But I promise you thing
you’ll remember me
After our painful parting
You had it all with me
And now there’s no way
To recover my love
With a unique and ardent warmth