I wrote this in January of 2022 when I was depressed.
I welcome death to take me away tonight-
death must be better than the anger
that has made an eternal home in me
death must feel better than this emptiness
that lies in my heart
death has to be better than this sorrow
that floods my pillow with tears continuously
death would be better than my emotions
that threaten to consume me
I wrote this poem in January of 2020.
winter comes with the iciest winds
and everything inside me freezes and I fawn
is this what they call seasonal depression
yet it’s much more than that
it’s a “what’s the point” status
it’s a “I’m looking forward for this day
to be over as soon as I wake up”-
my bed becomes my church, my family, my community
where I find comfort in not thinking,
in ignoring the noise of the world
winter comes with the iciest winds
and it’s hard to function but yet I do
and I feel like a fictional character playing my part
in a society fueled by greed and capitalism
So I had planned on writing this blog post early this month around mid December for my blogging anniversary but life and depression got in the way along with the most chaotic holiday season. I remember last year, I had all of these big plans to rebrand myself into something that has to do less with my mental illness and more to do with who I am as a writer and storyteller but it didn’t happen and tbh, I don’t when and if it will. In fact, I didn’t know that the payment on this website was up for renewal until the morning it happened and oh, boy, was that a bit of a surprise to my bank account but I took it as a sign to keep going with this thing however I can. So for now, it will remain with the same name, same storytelling format and same brand of crazy. I hope to go back to more poetry reviews and more blog posts about mental health and writing but we’ll see. I am proud of myself for keeping this blog going and that I have done this for 14 years and I’ve done it consistently for the past 4 years. Here’s the update from last year.
I think one reason, I keep this thing going is because this blog and writing in general grounds me in a way nothing can when the world feels beyond chaotic and I feel like the earth is going to swallow me whole that makes me want to give up. This year has been good in many ways and I’ll get to that part in a bit but I have to be honest for a bit about how bad my mental health got. It got to a rock bottom that I haven’t been in years. There were many factors that contributed to this and just extenuating life circumstances and kept dog piling on and on until my brain broke for a bit . Let’s also take into account that I am working class Latina immigrant living in America who’s constantly living in a state of hypervigilance worried for my family’s safety. Also, as the main provider of my household, I feel all of the pressure on top of me to mask, mask, mask even as I’m breaking. Like my mom would say, “a mal rato, buena cara” which translates to “put on a brave face for a bad time” or something like that. I try my best to do this mostly for other people’s benefit because duh, no one wants to be around a depressed bitch cause it’s just such a buzzkill. And while, yes, I could seek out help such as therapy or get better meds;however, lack of financial resources and time prevents me from doing this. Also, lately, I question whether that’s needed since I feel like I’ve even been able to dig myself out of my rock bottoms of depression with the coping skills already acquired. As of now, I’m okay for the most part, my life isn’t bad; it just that my brain chemistry is a little fucked at times. I just wanted to write a bit about my great depression of 2025 because I’ve always been honest and candid about my mental health in this blog. It’s part of my story this year that can’t be ignored especially when I plan blog content for November and December of this year. Below is a video of me looking ugly and depressed in November talking about how I got comfort from couch rotting while watching Mexican Classic Movies as I planned blog content for April:
Now, that we’ve talked about the hard part of this year; let’s move on the good and joyous things that have happened in my life. I got hip surgery in late January of last year and it’s been life changing not to live with chronic hip and knee pain. My three kids are thriving and doing good. My parents moved closer to me and they’re now 10 minutes away which is a godsend. I decided to submit to Magazines and literary journals and I’ve been published more than a few times. Here’s a link to my publications :
This has been a part of my dream come true for me that’s filled me with a sense of accomplishment and contentment. I’ll add that I have encountered way more than my fair share of rejections and sometimes this is disheartening but I’m too stubborn a bitch to give up so I keep submitting. In June, I was the featured poet at Word of Mouth, a monthly poetry open mic event I’ve been going to since 2016. This is something I manifested last December in a virtual writing workshop. It’s still wild to me that it happened. Also ,I met someone in April through a dating app and I’ve been dating him. It’s been nice and a bit complicated at times because well, I’m still a bit of a hot mess when it comes to relationships. I won’t say much except that it has inspired all types of poetry. So, while, yes my mental health has been a dumpster fire at times; good things still happened to me this year .
Anyways, here is where I thank my followers and anyone who has followed my brand of crazy for years. This is incredibly encouraging to me and I am beyond humbled anytime I get a like, a comment, and a new follower. When I started blogging consistently 4 years ago cause I was a sad, enraged, jealous, vindictive, heartbroken and insane bitch with a story to tell; I’d never imagine anyone would like my brand of crazy or resonate with it . I’d never imagined that something simple like this blog would mold me into the writer and woman I wanted to be and 4 years later, I’d sitting here tons better than where I started. I want to add that I’m also on other social media platforms and here’s my page for that and also, I’m always open to collaborations or featuring your poems, your stories, your articles on my blog :
I’ll leave y’all with this link to a story I told about this blog at Rabbit Box in November:
Happy New Year to y’all and again, thank you, thank you, thank you for continue to follow my brand of crazy.
I try my best to try to trust the divine time of the universe
but on days like today I just want to disappear
under the covers of my bed
it’s not that I’m depressed I just need time
to myself and not be surrounded by everyone’s
bullshit
about capitalism, society’s ills, and how we all need to heal-
it all feels so repetitive like we’re all barely treading water
waking up with existential dread wondering
which catastrophe or tragedy comes next
it’s hard for someone as sensitive as me to keep functioning
to keep living under stress and duress of life
and the world’s toxicity
so on days like today I just want to disappear
under the covers of my bed
It could be worse they say because I could be dead
my children left without a mother
my parents left without a daughter
My friends and coworkers left without entertainment
of my emotional and dramatic hijinks
And I left without fulfilling my potential or life purpose
It could be worse they say because with me gone
Who else will give you my special brand of crazy?
The numbness comes back
and there is nothing to fill the void
Running, drinking, dancing
Nothing stops the thoughts
about deleting myself
from this cesspool called life
What’s the point?
To love and get your heart
crushed over and over and over again
I had come so far
and to think this one
was well different
But once again
I was wrong, so wrong
Love stories aren’t meant
for people like me
Because I’m too much,
Too hard, too crazy
To ever be truly loved
But I keep going, I keep continuing
One step at a time,
One day at a time
to live
Because that’s the right and brave
thing to do
I wrote this poem in May of 2024.
I wanted to kill my sex drive so I stopped taking buspar
and while my sex drive has finally waned
the side effects are slowly killing me
between the mental fog, the constant headaches,
the nausea followed by the loss of appetite
there’s a reason they tell you to wean slowly
from psychiatric drugs, to do it under the care
of a medical provider
stopping cold turkey lends to a spiral of madness
and a physical ailment I never intended
Unsurvivable
I wanted you but
God wanted you more
Perhaps you were an angel
not meant for earth
Perhaps you were a hard a lesson
in grief and loss
That I needed to learn
A lesson that I should never take
love and hope for grant
No matter how brief the stay is
A lesson that your heart
can break within a span
of a few minutes
A lesson in surviving
what you think is unsurvivable
this poem is inspired by the 2007 poem “small”
can’t blend in with this privileged world
wrong age, wrong last name, wrong ethnicity
I stand destined for failure
on this institutions steps
as the pressure to succeeds hang around me
like a noose around my neck
and yet I still keep going
and show up every day
if only to teach my kids a lesson
in how to keep going when you want to quit
here’s the 2006 poem “dreams” that inspired this poem:
forgotten dreams remembered
in a bout of depression
I wanted to be much more than this
an overwhelmed mom of two
trying her best but still failing
an chaotic mess who doesn’t
know who she is
underneath the burdens
and expectations placed on her
here’s the Spanish version of this poem:
https://lifeonthebpd.com/?p=11875
petrified, frustrated, and stagnated
drowning in a sea of disillusionment
thanatos finds me and whispers in my ear
“come with me and your pain will disintegrate”
and the temptation to follow him is great
I hate living in such a terrible and inhumane
world
What was the last thing you did for play or fun?
I wrote this poem in September of 2023.
summer feels eternal
it’s the sixth of september
and we’re still in 90-degree weather
melting in this heat
it’s a global warning with no sign
of reprieve
it’s a never-ending season
that has me sweating and cursing
constantly
saying FML and calling my friends
during panic attacks in the bathroom at work
it’s my insanity I can’t seem to rein in
all the way, no matter how hard I try
and the frustration of it wears me out
and make me want to throw in the towel
and give up
I wrote this poem in August of 2023.
could we have done more?
could his story have had a different ending?
could we have all been more compassionate-
more open instead of entrenched and absorbed in our own worlds?
all of these questions are asked, days or week or even months
later, wondering-if we carry any blame or responsibility
when someone ends their life with their own two hands
I wrote this poem in May of 2022.
The sweetness of life has me on a euphoric high
where everything and everyone is wonderful
where nothing or noone can bring me down
And I feel like a goddess, a bad bitch, a Queen
I live for moments like this where happiness is my best friend
But then the sourness of life happens
and I’m brought down to a hell of depression and despair
Where I hate everything and everyone
Where everything weighs me down
and I’m losing my mind
And I feel worthless, crazy and like a selfish bitch
Life on the BPD 