What do I do with a mind that won’t quit? It keeps me on this never ending guilt trip These racing thoughts keep me up at night And tell me write, write, write And I want it all to stop the overflowing inspiration from my muse cup But this is who I am and forever will be a bipolar and BPD me trying hard to deal with existing
I fantasize about death after my boyfriend’s rejection I’m so out of touch with reality, a car stops inches away from me the driver honks at me and cusses me out I am 15
I want to throw myself of the bridge on the way to confirm I’m my parent’s worst failure but a kick inside me saves me I am 17
I want my baby to stop crying, my head is starting to spin with psychosis and I hold him a little too tight until my husband takes him from away me I am 30
I’m crying while spewing nonsense while my lover looks at me in horror and disgust I know it’s over I am 40
I’m done apologizing for being too much or not enough I’ve always been enough I’m done apologizing for being crazy I’m God’s creation of a perfect imperfection I’m done apologizing for being too bland or too spicy I’m a perfect blend of whatever I want to be I’m done apologizing for being me!
I’m at another one of life’s crossroads trying not to make a turn for the worst don’t stop but don’t go too fast I want my momentum to last I slow down and observe and carefully ride life’s curves and this time I really listen and reach out to close friends I’m not okay but I will be okay soon I’ll find my way I’m still grasping for a stable sense of self and learning how to love and accept myself
my real diagnosis should be “failure at love” childhood trauma gave me abandonment issues teenage trauma cemented it and added identity issues combined with chronic emptiness I couldn’t stand the constant void within so I chased love trying to fill it constantly sought out validation from men to stop feeling ugly and alone I’ve used them and they’ve used me as band aids for our mutual loneliness and when I start to feel sure of their love it suddenly disappears and all of my issues came back with force with suicidal ideation entwined And still I dusted myself off and tried my luck with love over and over again thinking each time it will be different except it never is they always tire of me and decide to leave and once again my insanity hits and I break Intrusive thoughts spiral in my head in an endless loop “’i’m a failure to love,i’m a failure at love, i’m a failure with love,i’m never enough, i’m worthless, death must be better than this” this was my tragic love story for 26 years but on year 26, I said “fuck this tragic love story” and I got the courage to change it I’m not a failure to love, I’m not a failure at love or I’m not a failure with love I’m enough by myself, I can be alone by myself and I turn into a success story of love
I’m not meant to be loved behind closed doors or only at night or kept as your little secret I’m not meant to be the mistress, the side chick or your on call whore I’m not meant to be devoured at your convenience in 2 hour increments I’m meant to be taken out in public in the daytime and introduced to your family and friends I’m meant to be part of your relationship status, your girlfriend, your partner in crime I’m meant to be paraded and exhibited everywhere but most of all I’m meant to be loved out loud
This was my response to prompt #31: One word to describe your year
It’s hard but always well worth it
Growth was uncomfortable and made me want to crawl out of my skin I had to acknowledge my own toxicity and take accountability I stopped blaming my parents or exes for my sadness and angst I held up a mirror to myself and recognized it was me holding myself back I was the worst villain in my story and never the victim I chose to turn this story around and confront my trauma head on, write my demons out-embrace my self-imposed solitary confinement, throw out my self invalidation, learn self compassion In order to evolve into a person of value and worth I let go of anything unhealthy and make sacrifices by giving up my self-destructive vices Growth could only happen in solitude and embracing radical honesty
I wrote this in December of 2021 when I got on a new form of hormonal birth control. It’s an understatement to say that it amped up the intensity of my emotions.
I was a mess but at least I was a hot mess…lol
I’ve bled for more than 40 days and 40 nights but my doctor says I need to grin and bear it My hormones are in constant flux I want to die, I want to scream Is God punishing me for my past sins? My mood swings are uncontrollable No matter what I do, I can’t find the calm Anger, rage, sadness, and despair are my emotional staples And within a span of 3 weeks I write poetry at 3am, crash my car, and breakup with my friend When will this madness end? My doctor says give it 6 more weeks but my mind and body are losing it over this 2 inch form of torture Will the next 6 weeks get calmer? or will I go down in infamy?
Easy E,Tupac, and Dr.Dre calmed me down when I was lost amidst a nervous breakdown I couldn’t remember who the fuck I was or where I came from then I blasted some Gangsta Rap in my ear and remembered who the fuck I was I’m a Queen from the land of the Incas raised in West L.A and Paradise I’m made to withstand earthquakes and hurricanes even when they come disguised as humans that’s when I turned my grief into anger and rage and knew I wouldn’t be “just okay” I would make this my greatest comeback in my life story
I was never the marrying kind Don’t know why I forced myself into that line Maybe because of society’s expectations I made marriage my destination But it wasn’t really who I ever was Forever is not meant to be in my book of love But still I tried for seven years And by year 7, I ran into my biggest fear I felt trapped in a cage of my own making Happiness, contentment, and authenticity I was faking But it was never truly me Living this suburban reality And one day I wanted to sleep forever My mind collapsed from society’s pressure to continue this facade of being the perfect wife With my perfectly imperfect life My authenticity I had to put aside I’m a wife and mother of three There’s no such thing as being free But these were the lies I told myself The critic in me I learned to quell I learned I could be a mother but not a wife My husband took our relationship’s demise in stride There would no more anniversaries We were done with self imposed forgeries And a new chapter started with us One full of laughter, friendship and familial love
This is my response to prompt #16: Your favorite household chore
it’s always your responsibility
Springtime is here, it’s my favorite time of the year I blast out music from Alexa and start de-cluttering Anais Nin books I’ll never read go into the donation box her life no longer inspires me Dresses and outfits I wore to my trauma are packed in a suitcase destined for Lima Dozens of therapy sheets are recycled I finally found calm and serenity Springtime is here and it’s to get rid of everything that no longer fits this new version of me
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