me about to pop this balloon of my self limiting beliefs
As I let go of my self limiting beliefs, I grieve the woman I used to be so insecure and unsure of herself so hesitant to take control and power Overthinking and catastrophizing constantly it held me back from living the life of my dreams- Jealousy and envy filled me up Scrolling the professional and personal successes of others on social media Thinking, “that could have been me” and giving too much importance to the opinions of others wondering constantly- “are they judging me?” It was a toxic story I told myself since the age of 16 and it continued on and on until one day in my middle age I exploded and decided to fight my inner critic and challenge everything I thought was wrong with me slowly, I learned to turn my story around Slowly, I went from victim to heroine
“back when I was living for the hope of it all”-Taylor Swift
I’m a poet, I’m a writer but when it comes to expressing the romantic in me I have the hardest time I’m great at expressing my anger, my disappointment, my shame but when it comes to love, I shy away and put my guard up it’s a mix of trauma and cognitive distortions I’ve held within me since the age of 16 self limiting beliefs that no man has ever loved or respected me and failing at all of my love stories no matter how hard I tried to succeed, no matter how much I accommodated or changed for my partner, he leaves me and I’m left flabbergasted, devastated, traumatized so embedded and attached to my past tragedies I’m apprehensive and hesitant when it comes to trying on someone new. when to comes to pursuing anything more than friendship it leaves me in the land of “I don’t know how to fucking do this again without it breaking me” and so I sit still, waiting for my crush to say something, do something to restart my heart once again
“this hurt that I’m holding’s getting heavy”-Conan Gray
after the thunderstorm came and went I wrote a hundred poems about what happened I didn’t know how to process it and 1 hour in therapy didn’t cut it the epic flood of grief that followed and while it may seem excessive and melodramatic It was either I kept writing or I kept dreaming of dying
I wake up on a Sunday crying you’re not here in my arms once again I was too much,I was too crazy so I lay alone in my bed numb and empty Wondering- will I ever find someone to fill this void within me ? will I ever find someone who will truly love me? will I ever find someone with the patience of a saint who won’t leave the minute I go insane? !
you love me anxious,insecure, and a hot mess and love to add fuel to my insecurities and fears to keep me with you, to control me and I try and try to break out of this toxic codependency tied up in a box of good intentions with your excuse that you know what’s best for me when it’s holding me back from realizing my potential from becoming the most powerful version of myself it makes me wonder did you ever really love me or did you choose me on purpose to build up your ego?
Got two hours of sleep last night But I still woke up with excitement in my bones Excited about a future without you Excited that you’re really gone from my life Because while I loved you and had many good times You were never going to change, and neither was I We were on the road to nowhere And now that we’re forever apart We’re on the road to somewhere Somewhere that gives us space to grow Somewhere without the pain and drama we caused each other Somewhere that brings us the peace and love we need to be authentic
me and my boys-one of the major reasons I’m determined to be the strongest and most empowered woman in their lives
Our children pay attention to the stories we tell ourselves I noticed when my son’s heart broke for the first time and it awakened a deep catharsis within me I would no longer hold onto my victim story the one where I tell myself, “I’m worthless, I’m not good enough, I’m unlovable” Instead I’ll walk with confidence and all of the self love I can muster up for myself maybe just maybe if I can model this type of healthy behavior the cycle of generational self loathing and self destruction will finally be broken And my children has a chance of living a life filled with more joy and contentment than mental illness
“I can’t recall the last time I was kissed”-Lizzy McAlpine
I didn’t mean to, it wasn’t in my plans for self improvement But I fell for you in spring I don’t even know when it started to happen All I remember is absolutely hating it hated how soft and corny it made me hated how I started smiling at your messages hated how you started to melt my jadedness about love and how I finally felt like love was a possibility for me
So this year I was able to do the napowrimo challenge last month in which I wrote one poem a day and posted it to my blog. For information about what Napowrimo is and where I got my prompts, here is the link: https://www.napowrimo.net/
april 1st-me on the first day of the challenge
I wasn’t able to do the challenge last year because I was in Peru and well, I was too busy enjoying my vacation to think about the challenge.
me in Peru last year…experiencing the poetry of nature instead of writing about it
I did do the challenge in 2022 and I can definitely tell a difference in my poetry from that year to this year. Here’s that blog post: https://wordpress.com/post/lifeonthebpd.com/3708 So a few things I have noticed in my poetry this year is I’ve gotten stronger in using imagery, my vocabulary is way better and I’ve even written some funny stuff. Here’s one inspired by Yung Gravy that I loved and read at open mic:
I got to perform this at a variety show this month and got serenaded after by a zoomer-lol
Another thing I noticed is that I’m getting better at telling a story through my poetry and here’s an example of this, this one is also one of my most vulnerable poems that I loved:
this was one of my most vulnerable and favorite poems
I will admit that not all of my poems were “good poems” and I’ll also admit that there were some days that it was hard to stay on task doing this daily since I do work 60 hour weeks but my discipline and determination won and even on the hardest and busiest of days, I still manage to write and post a poem. Also, I was determined to use the prompts from the napowrimo site and at times those prompts were challenging. However, I still used those prompts to the best of my ability. Also, when I did the challenge in 2022 I said something about turning off my internal editor and writing the poem and posting it right away. While I did turn off my internal editor (somewhat) when I wrote the first draft of the poem, I actually edited that first draft after I wrote it. I wrote a second draft in my journal and that’s what I posted in my blog. This shows I’m growing as a writer as I’m editing and paying more attention to what I post. I think one of the major reasons I’ve grown as a writer is because I’ve found community with other poets online and in real life. One thing I thought a lot about as I was doing this challenge was my audience. My friend Alex (another poet) told me that when he writes his poetry, he thinks about how it will sound while reading it to an audience and that really stuck with me. I know I’ve said so many times, “I write for myself primarily” and while that is still true, I think that in order for me to build community I need to also think about my audience and my readers. I don’t think this takes away from my authenticity at all; I think I’m just growing as a writer who aims to become better.
I’m so good at documenting those moments
My advice to anyone who’s thinking about doing the challenge next year is do it for yourself and be gentle with yourself. Understand you don’t have to post it if you don’t want to and use any prompts available on the internet. As I look into doing this challenge this year, I’m thinking of making my own prompts in Spanish and English for anyone interested in doing the challenge. I hope that next April when God willing I do the napowrimo challenge again I’m better at my craft and I can inspire some of my fellow poets to do the challenge with me.
almost cried out anger today but instead went for a drive a good choice for me and who I wanted to kill blasted my music and screamed “I fucking hate white women” they seem to be a thorn in my side all the fucking time focusing on my mistakes and snitching to my boss pretending to be friend never apologizing when they hurt me constantly trying to bring me down trying to make me feel less than and while I hate how much they affect me at least today I’m grateful that today my hatred for them inspired me to write this poem
I wrote this sometime in 2006 when I was contemplative about life.
stop waiting
dreams and goals are important without them life doesn’t have purpose without them we get stuck in a routine of misery Without them we end up projecting our insecurities on others and making ourselves the victims of our lives
Stuck in between Spanish and English is a bilingual nightmare constantly switching between languages gives me a lifelong jaqueca and at times I don’t get it right it’s switching between two identities Latina or American it gets hard and confusing at times but it’s who I am Hablo con mamá en Español I speak to my sons in English Hablo con los pacientes en Español I speak to my coworkers in English and to code switch parece una comedia I’m told that I’m fun and loud en Español pero soy profesional y reservada in English eventually I learn to meld my American and Latina personalities and I find my most authentic bilingual and bicultural identity
does a scorpion sting when fighting back? -Taylor Swift
I overthink, I overthink and I overthink and my head hurts from so much anxiety Society puts so much pressure on me to be nice, to be pretty to be kind, to be smart the stress is tearing me apart but slowly I start to breathe and the pressure starts to decrease I change the narrative And stop with listening to my inner critic Fuck societal expectations so what if I’m an aberration the only person who determines my identity is me not you, not him,not my parents and not society
Dear future heartbroken me, Sometimes it won’t be you or even him Sometimes things don’t work out It’s nothing to be obsessed about Sometimes love isn’t enough It doesn’t mean you’re not enough Sometimes things end abruptly and it’s not the end of your story and sometimes you learn from it And most of the time it will serve to change your narrative
Thorny long stemmed burgundy red roses remind me of how I’m loved The beauty of the roses is how men admire me and fall for me the burgundy red reminds me of how my heart bleeds after they leave me and the sharp thorns stab my lungs as rejection and devastation sets in
Life on the BPD 