I wrote this poem in 2004 when I was pregnant with my second child and mad at my boyfriend (future husband) for his lack of affection and attention to me. I was obviously very upset when I wrote this poem and instead of talking to him I wrote and bottled up my anger.
I wrote this poem in 2004 about my husband, then boyfriend. I guess I was mad about his lack of affection. As you can see, this is a pattern for me.I bottle my emotions up until one day I explode.
I wrote this poem in 2004 about my oldest son. Even though, I was 17 when I had him, I always tried to be the best mother for him. I worked to support him since I was 18, he was one of my biggest motivations for going to college, and even though I was extremely insecure as a young mom, I learned to advocate and fight for him to get the services and therapies he needed when he was diagnosed with autism.
From the ages of 18 to 23, I worked for a government agency as an interpreter. I was well-liked by many of my coworkers and my first supervisor was appreciative of me. I was very good at my job and even cross-trained in many other areas that didn’t “pertain to my job”. However, at that job, I was also bullied and discriminated against for being Latina. I was also slut-shamed by my second supervisor and coworkers the latter 2 years I was there. I don’t want to say I deserved being slut-shamed but I’ll just say that I trusted the wrong coworkers with my private life and they went on to gossip about me to everyone. It was also a very stressful environment because of the work I did and clients I had to interact with. My depression and anxiety went haywire. In 2003, I decided to enroll in my local community college and major in English. In 2004, I was trying to go to school full time, work full time, and deal with my child’s new autism diagnosis. I was breaking down mentally and something had to give so I quit this job. I was fucking done. And this poem was inspired by that moment. I thought I had processed this trauma until it came back up in therapy in the summer of 2021. I didn’t realize it at the time but I had suffered a deep racial trauma that impacted me and still triggered reactions in me. I was angry. There is actually way more to this story and one day I’ll share it when I’m ready.
So much anxiety and depression hidden behind that smile 😭
I wrote this in 2004 inspired by a rough family situation I was going through at the time. I needed to process what was happening in some way because I couldn’t confront the person. And well, I wrote this narrative poem.
I wrote this poem in January of 2004 when I was frustrated with Matt and blamed him for my life going awry. Looking back, it was misplaced blame on a situation that only I had control over. At the time, it was much easier to blame Matt rather than take a look at myself and how I was responsible for the mess I made of my life.
I wrote this in January of 2004 when I first started dating my husband. The age difference between caused a real uproar in both of our families and my friends.
I wrote this in 2003 about Lucas. I was again obsessing about him.
Everyday I think about you more and more My heart can’t help itself I close my eyes for a brief second and your wonderful and attached self is what my mind sees. I catch myself missing you and it doesn’t make sense to miss something I never really had. You did something to me without having to do anything. Maybe you accidentally put a spell on me . I still can’t figure out why you, Mr.Forbidden has become my new unrequited love obsession Maybe love really does come out of the least expected place Or maybe I will always Desire the one that I can’t have.
I wrote this in May of 2003 when I was going wrestling with a terrible bout of depression. I kept trying to find the light of the end of the tunnel but it was hard.
A sponge is what I am as I start to absorb this mortifying and painful experience From a sponge I become A meatloaf of frustration From a meatloaf I become A tall and full glass of self pity and regret From the tall and full glass I’m trying Very hard to become a hard rock of acceptance
I wrote this in April of 2002 when I was depressed and felt empty. Chronic feelings of emptiness is a trait of living with BPD. It’s rough sometimes.
I’m at a very bad place I struggle and struggle to come out of this miserable and horrible place But somehow feel confined With a helluva strong glue at the bottom of my pitiful feel Stuck to the pit of here( my life) I continue to Dream and dream The impossible dream To someday become unstuck
I wrote this in March of 2003 when I went back to Hawaii. I had a lot of conflicting feelings about this trip.
Waikiki Beach
I’m back here Where it all started A place I once called home But now I’m not so sure I always wonder if I should’ve stayed But now I see why I had to go away It is filled with both Beautiful memories of the loved ones I left behind And ugly memories of the ones that left me behind when I needed them the most I don’t regret coming back Because it’s what I needed In order to heal and move on from you my past, and let you go
I wrote this in September of 2001, probably about a one night stand. It’s amazing how great sex fucks with my brain. Lol.
I saw myself last night In a sea of the most passionate lovemaking of my life It was like your body Knew me like an old friend Even though we just met 2 nights ago
Life on the BPD 