I wrote this poem in September of 2022.

I call to the waning moon for inspiration, for motivation
Some days itβs hard to keep going, to keep trying
I call to the waning moon to turn into Mama Killa
and bring me comfort and growth
Here’s the version in English:
Poetry: Letter to My Former Lover
Ahora veo que tu tenias razΓ³n en acabar nuestro cuento de amor
Ahora veo que tu adiΓ³s fue una bendiciΓ³n
y no es que porque te odio o porque te tengo rencor
no, al contrario te deseo lo mejor
te deseo que el universo te bendiga con felicidad y paz
entiendo ahora que lo de nosotros no podΓa continuar
por que tu nunca fuistes y nunca serΓas el hombre
que me ayudarΓa evolucionar
o que apreciara mi creatividad
o que pudiera luchar a mi lado cuando la realidad de la vida
se vuelve un huracΓ‘n difΓcil de navegar
me hiciste un favor al irte para espacio para alguien
con la fortaleza y valor que tu nunca tuviste
I wrote this poem in September of 2022.

I used to lie about my sins when I went to confession-
to have something, anything to confess to arouse interest in the priest
to not feel the burden of goodness on me-
and the priest gave me prayers and rosaries to atone for my made up sins
Here’s the English Version of this poem:
Poetry: Lost Cause
Sinchi Warmi es mujer poderosa en quechua
Siempre soy una perdedora en el amor
y esto me agobiaba, me hacΓa sentir menos
pero despuΓ©s de investigar las razones
de mis rupturas amorosas
DescubrΓ que la culpa no era mΓa, ni de mis exes
ni del destino-
lo que pasa es una mujer poderosa y fuerte como yo
se va a demorar y demorar para encontrar a alguien
que me sepa apreciar y amar como la reina que soy

stuck between two divas-I was never meant to stand out
my older sister shouted cries of continued injustice
my younger sister just cried over any little thing
my parents tried their best to give us individual attention
but sometimes I got left behind between the shuffle
of my sistersβ hysterics
and while I hold no ill will towards my sisters or my parents
I wonder what my life would have been life
if I had been the first or last born
Here’s the English version of this poem:
Poetry: Not Just Lust
hay que tomarnos tiempo para conocernos
antes de brincar en otra tragedia de amor
hay que ver que encajamos de verdad
antes de profesar βte amosβ y βte quierosβ
y no apresurarnos en empezar algo
que algΓΊn dΓa nos destruirΓ‘
here’s the English version of this poem:
Poetry: Hard
basta de tanto esperar ha alguien que me sepa apreciar
mami me dice que es porque no me dejo respetar
porque me dejo llevar por la pasiΓ³n del momento sin pensar
y a lo mejor mami tiene la razΓ³n
deberΓa de dejar de escuchar
a los deseos temporΓ‘neos de mi corazΓ³n
y empezarme a valorar
I wrote this poem in September of 2022.

mami cocoons me in her warmth, holds me carefully so I donβt break
Iβm her porcelain baby doll
she nurses me back to health with devotion and dedication
Iβm a gift from the heavens-
an unexpected surprise sent to complete our family
and she doesnβt care if I came slightly damaged

As far as what my future holds for me, Iβve been doing a lot of long term goal planning and manifestations the past few years and thatβs been working for me. Here’s a recent blog post I wrote about it:
goal setting
The past 2 years was me trying to find out who I was and what I wanted out of life. I had this very vague idea, almost like a sketch but now I have a clear picture of what that is exactly. Getting out of survival mode was crucial for this development and Iβm excited about the future. One thing I can tell you is that there will definitely be more storytelling. In fact, for the month of September, Iβm telling my story chronologically with some of the moments in my life that most impacted me. This came about organically as I was planning blog content for that month and I said, βfuck it, letβs do thisβ and βletβs see what happensβ. I think that so much of my healing happened because of my storytelling. It was important for me to retell my story because thatβs how I took ownership of it. It helped turn me from a victim to heroine in my story and this has been monumental to my healing process. Of course, sometimes that looks crazy and messy but it only proves what a resilient and powerful Queen I am to still be standing despite the chaos and trauma Iβve been through. Here’s a poem I wrote in April about it:
Sharing my story
Iβve taken off my mask and stop repressing my true self-
And while itβs terrifying at time, I show the world my authenticity
and vulnerability
I share the parts of my story that are terrible, happy, sad, lovely, crazy, beautiful, and tragic
so others donβt feel alone and find solidarity
in my chaotic and bicultural story of love, rage, defeat, hate, and resilience
And bring to light my rich and vivid experience of the duality of being a rooted and rootless,
Peruvian and American, a hateful and kind woman living her life fearlessly and shamelessly
I restarted this blog a couple of summers ago as a way to cope with my mental breakdown and at the time I had only 17 followers and now I have more than 300 followers who have been incredibly supportive and encouraging throughout this self discovery journey. Thank you to all of you who have given me this safe space on the internet to share my story through blogging and poetry. This has been incredibly instrumental in helping me in my recovery from BPD . Itβs given me a sense of love through community that I didnβt know could exist and Iβm incredibly grateful and humbled by it. Anyways,if youβve made it to the end of this blog post, youβre the best. I’m not sure what year 3 after my BPD diagnosis but I hope I continue to evolve and live a life with purpose for the betterment of myself and my kids.

From February to July, Iβve continued to maintain the healthy coping skills Iβve acquired in therapy and have made even more progress. I started group DBT therapy in April and thatβs also helped me tremendously. Listening to members in that group talk about their issues has made me gain a lot of perspective. Iβve also had a few obstacles along the way of course. In May, I upped my dosage on one of my meds that ended up with me having a major depressive episode, hereβs a blog post about that:
Borderline Awareness Month: I Could be 1 in 10
A year later, I can honestly say that Iβve been successful in managing my emotions in a much better and healthier way. My growth has been phenomenal in many areas of my life due to my hard work. Iβve had incredible support from my therapists, medical providers, friends, followers, and family whoβve helped facilitate my growth by encouraging me and giving me the space I needed to be who I needed to be at different parts of this process. Sometimes that was a complete emotional mess, sometimes that was an angry and salty poet, sometimes that was a cringy mom or a moody coworker. Restarting this blog and creating content for it has been instrumental in my healing process and has been a great outlet for the inspiration and creativity Iβve had during this time. Another beneficial thing Iβve done is simplified my life by letting go of anything that doesnβt serve me. I keep my life simple with work, kids, friends, family, and writing and this is the right combination for me to maintain my emotional stability. Iβve learned to prioritize my mental health above everything else because the consequences for me and everyone are too great for me not to do so. I understand now that the βold meβ before her diagnosis was trying to have βeverythingβ and well, that extended my emotional bandwidth to the point it was detrimental to my mental health to the point that I constantly lived in a flux of emotional dysregulation. I donβt blame anybody or even myself; I did not have the knowledge or awareness at the time to do any better.
Iβm not completely where I want to be because I have two areas that I still have problems with:
-sticking to my boundaries especially when I feel pressure from others to bend to their will and desires
-my cognitive distortions which include black and white thinking and thinking in absolutes
I’ve lived with these cognitive distortions since I can remember, and itβs been really hard to break these unhealthy thinking patterns but Iβm working on it.
There is a lot more to say about this journey, but Iβll save that for later throughout this year.
To conclude, here are a few thoughts:
To have an immense amount of progress and growth this year; I had to learn to be brutally honest with myself about things I had been lying to myself about for too long. I had a tendency to blame others when I felt terrible about my life. This year, I changed that pattern and I had to learn to hold a mirror to myself and take accountability for any harm Iβve done to myself and others and that was extremely difficult to do. It also meant facing some of my biggest fears and insecurities and that was fucking hard. Sometimes it was so much work, I wanted to give up but I didnβt. And now Iβm here, at a place where Iβm truly happy and content with myself and my life. And to not have major depressive episodes every other week where Iβm stuck in this rut of misery feels like a type of freedom I canβt describe. To manage hard emotions like anger and sadness without it affecting my whole week or my whole day is something I always felt was impossible until now.
And while I am thankful for everyone thatβs been helpful in my journey, I feel the most gratitude to myself and my determination and resilience. I had always known myself but just this year Iβve finally started to understand myself and finally felt a sense of freedom to be who I really am without a need to filter out the crazy or hard parts that make me the complicated and resilient human that I am. A year later, I no longer allow life to happen to me and feel powerless and have an immense need for validation from others. Now Iβm a person who lives a life with intention and purpose for my own betterment.

Around September,I started to logically understand how out of control my behavior was at times. The strange thing about it is it doesnβt feel like me when Iβm acting that way. Iβm 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 βfast-track my healingβ . I quickly learned thatβs not how healing or therapy works. It didnβt 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 couldnβt speed up the process if I truly wanted to get better.

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. Itβs been hard to do, and Iβve stumbled along the way and have made many mistakes. One thing Iβve learned this year is that changing unhealthy patterns in my behavior had to be the most arduous and difficult work Iβve ever done. For example, maybe one day Iβm 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 Iβm 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 doesnβt involved shopping or the validation from others? Itβs 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 didnβt. She stuck by me through the end of our therapy sessions in January of this year. The few times Iβd 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. Iβve had therapists in the past who talked down to me and were condescending and she wasnβt one of them. People talk about finding βthe oneβ at the βright timeβ; well in my case, I found the βright therapistβ at the βright timeβ in my life. Here is a poem I wrote about her:
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 thatβs a story Iβll 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, Iβd 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 Iβm 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 βfeed himβ
and I was like βhow do I do that?β
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 Iβve also mentioned, my therapy sessions ended in January and after that I was on my own with my maintenance plan making sure I didnβt do anything to sabotage the progress I had made.
6/30/2022
Itβs been a year since I received my life changing diagnosis of Borderline Personality Disorder and so much in my life has changed because of it. I started therapy sometime around late June and I had to do a 3-hour mental health assessment in two separate sessions where my therapists asked me questions about past trauma and past patterns of behavior. It was a really, rough week emotionally for me because of that and other personal stuff going on in my life. I sat down across from my therapist as she explained how Borderline Personality Disorder diagnosis ended up on my concept map.

My reaction was one of numbness and shock. And then I made the mistake of going to the internet and looking it up and well BPD gets a bad rap for good reason. After reading all the bad things about BPD, I thought βI knew I had issues and was kind of messed up, but I didnβt expect to be this fucked up, this brokenβ. It doesnβt help that a couple of things that stand out on the internet about BPD are βBPD is the most painful mental disorder “Or βBPD people are manipulativeβ or βSome people with BPD are incapable of loveβ. It didnβt help that at the time I was diagnosed, I was also having a mental breakdown and my relationship at the time was on the rocks. When I told my friends and family about my diagnosis, most of them were supportive and encouraging but some were in denial and didnβt fully accept it. I was told βI couldnβt have BPD because Iβm not so awfulβ or that βitβs not a big dealβ.
A couple of weeks after my diagnosis, I was broken up with. While I donβt want to go into the details about the events that led up to the demise of that relationship; I will say that the last day I saw my ex, there were a couple of things he said to me that really impacted me and made me really look at my life. I wonβt say what they were, but it was useful for the next part of my journey. The breakup validated my worst fears about myself, βIβm unlovableβ, Iβm hard to loveβ, βIβm always going to be too emotionally unstable to be in a relationshipβ βI donβt deserve loveβ βI always fuck up everything good in my lifeβ βIβm too fucked up and broken to be lovedβ etc., etc. Yβall have read the poetry and stories about how I donβt handle breakups well-ever. So, Iβm lying-in bed crying and thinking all these things and donβt want to get up. I was on vacation when this happened so I couldβve stayed in bed all day and it would have been fine. However, something told me to keep going and getting up. The rest of the month of July is a blur to me at this point. I did document through video and journaling what I did so I know what I did, however there are parts of that month I donβt remember living.
I know I kept up with my therapy appointments and worked every day and wrote. Something I had to do for therapy was keep a daily diary card monitoring my emotions and any situations that brought out strong emotions in me. The main emotions I felt the months of July, August, and September were anger, sadness, and despair so filling out my diary card was a task but also necessary for me to get better at coping with life.

Something my current therapist said in group therapy was how grief makes one take a stock of life and how youβre living it. After the breakup, while yes, I felt this immense grief over that situation, I also felt grief and anger over other traumatic events in my life I hadnβt healed from. It was like I had this closet full of unprocessed trauma that was about to burst open at any time and in July, the door busted wide open and out came well, almost everything I kept inside of me well hidden. Shame, guilt, anger, fury, despair, sadness over past trauma were feelings I became well acquainted with for those first three months. I felt stuck at times in this emotional fog but somehow kept going. I continually asked myself what the purpose of all my hard work was and at first it was so that I donβt ever βsplitβ on my kids like I had on other people in my past. I also had to learn a new language with my BPD diagnosis. I know that sounds weird but with all the new vocabulary words thrown at me, itβs what it felt like. In June and July, I learned real quick what dissociation, masking, and splitting was because that’s basically what I did those months. I also learned the term hypersexuality which Iβve addressed in some of my posts and poetry in this blog. Reflecting on everything that Iβve learned I can understand how my behavior can seem scary and unsafe to some people. Iβve finally had a deep understanding of how much of my erratic and impulsive behavior has greatly impacted my life.
To be continued to part two…
Resources:
BPD Terminology:
https://shitborderlinesdo.freeforums.net/thread/37/important-bpd-terminology
Here is an episode from my favorite podcast “Back From the Borderline” about breakups that resonated with me: https://open.spotify.com/episode/19fVPtpfy8bsO2qEKQueWv?si=8NWz6oVVQ52coU1g-Bcwyg&utm_source=copy-link
I wrote this poem in February of this year inspired by my oldest son.

the guilt visits me over the mother I should have been
I should have been older, wiser, married
but instead you ended up with an immature teen mom
who read you Stephen King instead of fairy tales
who played you Matchbox Twenty instead of lullabies
who wore you on my hip like a new fashion accessory
who missed the signs early on that you were different
because I was too self absorbed looking for love
but whatβs done canβt be undone-
I hope one day you understand
I did the best I could with what I had
I wrote this poem in August of 2022.

I let go of control over what I canβt change
and allow the source to do whatβs best for me
because faith has always shone a light in me
because Iβve never felt alone because of her
she has the power to transform,
she provides the hope for me to go on
as I walk towards self worth, confidence
and empowerment in my heroineβs journey
Aqui esta la version en Espanol:
Poesia: La Misma Historia
Iβd rather be berated and hated
than ignored and treated with indifference
call me a lunatic, call me a bitch
call me the worst mistake of your life
JUST CALL ME ANYTHING!
Then Iβll know I won
because Iβve imprinted on your memory