Day 6 of doing a 31-day poetry prompt challenge. Today’s prompt was “A Deafening Silence”.
Poem of the Day: My New Calm
Poetry: They Call Me Borderline
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Poetry: Numbness
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Poetry: A Poetic Tale
I wrote this narrative poem in 2005 in my creative writing class.
I will tell you my loving tale
About the day I saw
The most incredibly hot male
Standing in the raw
Naked, he was as a newborn
Why and how I did ask
He asked me not to be a thorn
To enjoy as he basked
And I did enjoy this great view
But still I did ask
What is this visit due to?
And will it be the last?
All he did was show me his teeth
And replied “no its not”
A lot of me you’ll bequeathed
It’s you I’ve always sought
And this was the ending of my tale
About the day I learned
From that translucent and wise male
Love can pleasantly burn
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Poem of the Day: Understanding Myself
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Poem of the Day: Taming the Monster
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Poem of the Day: A Family Tradition 👪
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Borderline Awareness Month: I Could be 1 in 10
I knew I wanted to write a post for Borderline Personality Awareness month, but I didn’t know it would be this post-about having suicidal ideation once again. It’s hard to write about this since I haven’t been here since last summer. Here is a place where I want to do everything or anything to stop the intense emotional turmoil and pain, I’m in. Here is a place where I write dark poetry about ways to end it all. I mean my poetry got so dark; Sylvia Plath would have been proud of me. Here is a place where I cry multiple times a day and any little thing is a trigger, and my coworkers start asking me if I’m okay. Here is a place where it feels like none of the healthy coping mechanisms (writing, music, keeping busy, talking to friends, mindfulness, long walks in nature, etc.) are working and I started to wonder what the point of it all is. What’s worse about this happening this time around was that there was no tragedy or life changing circumstance to trigger these feelings of wanting to die. If I had to pinpoint the trigger of this major depressive episode, it was as simple as upping the dosage of my mood stabilizer. Now, I was already in a low mood since last week because my quality of sleep had gone to shit lately so last week, I asked my medical provider to up the dosage on my mood stabilizer that I take at night to sleep. I was also working an extra shift at my second job, so I was more tired than usual.
On Monday night, I started on the new dosage and on Tuesday morning I woke in a state of extreme anger and agitation. I’ve been here many times before but this time it felt different. Everything and everyone annoyed me to the point that I wrote some really mean and cruel poetry and played my ANGRY AF playlist on repeat. This was the alternative to what I really wanted to do, which was to punch walls or smash something to bits and pieces. I also imploded on myself and went into self-hate mode where I hated my brain chemistry, my BPD, and well basically myself. Being in this negative mindset felt like several steps backwards based on all the progress I’ve made and that made me spiral even more. I cried at lunch that day. I went to my second job and felt fine after.
On Wednesday, I felt I was in a better mood and thought I was in control of my emotions. I even wrote a poem about how my therapist was so instrumental in helping me. Then the afternoon came, and I got a rejection email from a grant I applied for that really hit me straight in the gut. Once again, I was extremely angry and agitated. And I almost went into my “I’m going to be reactive AF” mode. However, I was able to stop myself. I headed to my second job and cried on and off the first two hours of work while I was stocking. Luckily, I reached out to my friend “K” through text and she was responsive. Also, I was closely working with my supervisor the latter part of the night so that kept my mind busy. I ended up going to sleep later than I’m used to and woke up on Thursday a complete and utter emotional mess. Because of the state I was in, I made the responsible decision not to drive that day, but I still went to work. For the first two hours at work, I cried, and I couldn’t do anything to stop it. My coworkers kept asking me if I was okay and I lied and said I had a raging headache. I’m not completely out to the whole office yet about my BPD or all my mental health issues. Maybe they bought the lie or maybe they didn’t. Throughout the morning, I tried my best to practice mindfulness to calm down and it helped a little. Then I had a second cup of coffee and that did the trick because I was finally able to be coherent enough to chat with a couple of my coworkers. I want to think that my “masking skills” from the past really helped in making my coworkers not suspect how much of an emotional mess I was. I reached out to my friend “K” once again and other friends and they were all responsive so that helped. And then lunchtime came, and the dark and intrusive thoughts came out in my poetry, and I cried a lot. I guess getting the worst of it out helped because my mood improved in the afternoon. I decided to clean up and organize my office. I made a list of tasks to occupy me at work for the next few days. I made a separate list of tasks I wanted to accomplish in my personal life. I also decided to do something kind for myself and signed up for swimming lessons since I never learned how to swim. I went to my second job and that also kept me busy which helped me tremendously. On Friday, I woke up in a much better mood and drove to work. I felt this huge sense of relief, but I finally felt like I was back to what is now my normal optimistic and confident self. This sent me into a bit of euphoria that got me side eye from one of my coworkers. Lol. Okay, I know it’s kind of ridiculous for a middle-aged woman to get excited at the supermarket over cuatro leches cake and a sour patch energy drink but damn after a 3-day suicidal ideation episode, it’s the little things that count. I took the terrible experience as another way to learn about myself and maybe try more preventive measures next time I switched meds or upped a dosage.
I learned that my mental health was declining when I started listening to the same angry or sad song over and over again. I don’t know how many times I listened to “That’s Hilarious” by Charlie Puth last week. I also learn that when I’m in the worst of it, I need to listen to the “Fuck Love “album by The Kid LAROI. Don’t ask me why, something in my brain finds his teenage angst and anger comforting. I also learned how I dissociate during these episodes. It was like a watching this train wreck of emotions take over my body and mind and not being able to do much about it. It was difficult and scary to experience. The best thing I did was keep going to work at both jobs no matter what. I feel like this kept me busy enough from spiraling even further. Also, planning something to look forward to like scheduling swimming lessons was extremely helpful. Reaching out to friends about how I was feeling bad and getting their love and encouragement helped me as well. And of course, understanding that the feelings of hopelessness and despair won’t last forever and honoring those feelings through journaling and writing poetry is important. For some reason, documenting what’s going on helps me process and get through an episode like this quicker. When I get into a major depressive episode that causes suicidal ideation, it gets scary and lonely. Having a diagnosis like borderline personality disorder makes me 1 in 10 people who could give in to that hopelessness and take action to take my own life. Even at my worst, there is a voice inside of me that is determined not to be that 1 in 10 because well, I’m too awesome to die. Also, if anything else, I don’t want to do that to my children and leave them with that trauma. I’m proud of how I handled this depressive episode. I listened to myself and used all the resources I had to get over it quicker. I remember that last year and the year before then, I had many of these episodes and would either try to drink it away or buy something from Amazon or do something self-destructive. I didn’t do that this time around. The fact that it’s been 10 months since this happened shows how much my mental health has improved. For anyone going through this, understand that you’re not alone and it’s okay to feel how you feel. The important thing is to keep going because even if it doesn’t feel like it at the time, there will always be something in life to look forward to or get excited about. It could be new food to taste or that new album from your favorite artist that’s about to come out, or even seeing a rainbow after it rains.
Below are links for mental health resources:
Suicide Prevention Line:
Find a Therapist:
DBT: Mindfulness
Understanding the Link between Borderline Personality Disorder and Suicide
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Poem of the day: My son and my father
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Poem of the Day: For An “I Love You” ❤️
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Reflection: NapoWrimo Challenge
So last month was poetry month and there is an event called NapoWrimo where poets challenge themselves to write one poem every day for the month of April. Here is a link to information about it:
I found out about the event last year but didn’t do it because I was in the middle of moving and way too busy at the time. This year, I decided to give it a try because I was in a better mindset and I had time. Also, since last year, I’ve been writing poetry on an almost daily basis so I didn’t think it would be too hard. I also wanted to post a poem a day on social media but that didn’t happen. Life got crazy with kids and my two jobs so I took a social media break in early April to focus on real life. However, I still updated my blog and still wrote poetry. During the month of April, I’ve averaged writing between 9 to 12 poems a day. I’ve used prompts from Instagram and my own prompts to write so much and here’s a few examples of them:
One thing that really helped me with this challenge was to turn off my internal editor. What this means is anything goes when I write even if it sounds shitty or terrible at the time that I write it down. I tell myself, I can always go back and revise it later. I also gave myself permission to not judge anything I write down and to really have self compassion for myself no matter what comes out. This gave me absolute freedom to write. I’ve also been sharing on my blog a poem or two from this challenge on a daily basis. It was hard at first because I was sharing raw and unedited work that sometimes doesn’t make sense BUT I said fuck it. I’m not claiming to be a good poet or a good writer. I’m well aware of my flaws and limits when it comes to my writing and I’ll address them someday. With this challenge, I wanted to just focus on writing even if what came out was cringy or repetitive or super emotional. I also want to mention that while this writing exercise challenged my creativity; it also opened the door to process parts of unhealed trauma which led to more healing. I know what you’re all thinking, how much more healing does this bitch need to do? Trust me, I’ve asked myself the same thing every day. I could write a whole book on healing from past trauma but I won’t. I’ll leave that to the experts. I guess my main takeaway from NapoWrimo was that for me to do it and be successful at it, it was important to turn off judgment and my internal editor. Something I didn’t expect from this exercise was how therapeutic it ended up being for me. I also didn’t expect for so much of the poetry I posted to be well received by my followers. I’m honestly humbled and grateful every time I get a like or comment about anything I write because it’s hard to imagine sometimes that my brand of messy and crazy resonates with anyone. My advice when it comes to doing this kind of exercise is the obvious: shut down your internal editor and turn off judgment. Also, don’t be afraid to just write even if it doesn’t make sense why you’re writing it or how it comes out on paper. There’s a purpose and reason behind your words even if it doesn’t feel like it at the time. Most importantly, write from the heart with loads of self compassion. While I shared what I wrote and really liked that aspect; I won’t tell you to do the same. It’s up to you if you want to write just for yourself (which is okay) or to share with the world (that’s okay too). Below are some of favorite poems from this writing challenge:
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Poetry: Memory
This was another poem I wrote about the first Andrew in early 2003. I think I was dreaming about him a lot and got inspired. I think at the time I kept returning to this past memory of love because I wanted to hold on to the hope that someone like the first Andrew was out there for me.
The memory of you visits me
And a realization washes over me
You were the light in the dark tunnel
in my then hopeless life
You were the song in my heart
That I can’t stop seem to stop playing
Now matter how loud the music
Of my new life tries to drown you out
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Poetry: Extremely False
I wrote this about John in 2002 after he ghosted me after taking me to see his mom. His mother didn’t approve of me-an uneducated single mom. It was rough and of course I took it personally. So John fell off my pedestal and it was a long fall.
Perhaps you feel too smart
to let someone as ordinary as me
into your heart
Perhaps you think I’m not good enough
to be deserving of your love
Perhaps you are only sure
I’m just good for pleasure
Perhaps you wear a know it all smirk
And believe I’m just like any other girl
Perhaps you believe in your head
I’m only good to warm up your bed
But darling I’m sorry to say
You won’t get your way
Because I respect myself too much
To let myself melt with your touch
Because I am worth a lot more
than any of your trophy whores
Because I have an actual mind
Without you I’ll be just fine
But mostly because I would never fall
For someone so extremely false
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July thru Dec 2021 It’s been a year! 🤣💔😭😍😳
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A Decade of Blogging
So today marks my 10 anniversary since starting this blog. I’ll admit that until the summer of this year I didn’t take this blog as seriously as maybe I should have. I started this blog in December of 2011 after my house was broken into and we were robbed. It was traumatizing to me and my family and I needed a way to process it so I started blogging. Here is that blogpost:
Hola/Hello
Since starting this blog, there have been a lot of life changes. I’ve blog about those life changes few times when just writing it down doesn’t do the trick. The way that I have explained it to friends and family is that the blog is like screaming into the void of cyberspace. In October of 2019, I started posting my poetry and this was another level of intimacy for me because I don’t share my poetry with just anyone. I will share my poetry or writing with one of my close friends or sometimes at open mic at my local pub .Then I started a second job and I didn’t have the time needed to dedicate to this blog but I always kept writing. Then I got into a relationship that lasted until July of this year. While I’m not getting into how that relationship ended or why (that’s blog content for late next year-lol) it was one of the reasons I started blogging again. The demise of that relationship was unexpected and devastating for me so I turned to my first coping mechanism-writing. Shortly before my breakup in July, I started therapy and was diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder and that was a lot to process in itself. Being broken up while dealing with a new diagnosis of Borderline Personality Disorder felt like I had experienced 2 really horrible car wrecks within a week. I compare it to a car accident because that’s probably one of the most traumatizing experiences of my life. Except this time, it wasn’t my car that was totaled and unrepairable, it was me. I felt like I had lost part of my identity since I was no longer someone’s partner and I gained a new part of my identity in being diagnosed with BPD. I felt completely overwhelmed with no sense of direction; I honestly didn’t know what to do next. All I wanted to do was lie in bed and cry while Alexa played my sad girl playlist from Spotify. Here is that playlist:
Playlist: For the Brokenhearted: Sad Edition (the one where you cry)
And while I did do that some of the time; I understood I still needed to get up every day and show up for myself somehow. And showing up for myself meant writing. And so I wrote every day in my journal and in my numerous notebooks. I wrote letters at 3 AM that I would never send, journal entries full of immense sadness and rage, and tons and tons of poetry.
A few days after my breakup, I decided to blog about my diagnosis to start to make sense of it and here’s that post:
A New Diagnosis: BPD
After writing that post and it got more than a few views and a couple of likes, it made me realize that there are other people like me. I also got the idea at that time that healing for me would look like me revisiting past traumatic situations through my poetry and reflections or writing a blog post. And this was chaotic in itself because I started posting poetry from all stages in my life. So around late October and early November, I started posting poetry for the most part chronologically from the early stages of my writing with the very first poem I wrote when I was 15 and here’s that poem:
Poetry: Another Mate
My writings and poetry are confessional, sometimes childish, and at times super emotional. It’s meant for people who have felt misunderstood in their anger and grief, it’s meant for people who feel everything at once and feel overwhelmed by it, it’s meant for people who have traumas they’re still not over, and it’s meant for people who have given their trust and vulnerability to the wrong people only to be broken over and over again by doing this.
My future plan for this blog is to continue to post poetry, essays, playlists, and other writings. Without intending to, this blog has become a storytelling blog. And it’s a story about a woman who is far from perfect. It’s a story of woman who lies, who loves hard, who hates even harder, who loves sex, who has been abandoned by lovers and who has abandoned lovers, who’s crazy, and who feels immense sadness and rage when trauma hits. It’s a story of a woman who fucks up continuously but still manages to get up and try to become a better version of herself than she was yesterday. It’s also a story of a woman who has continued to triumph after trauma. Most importantly it’s a story of a woman who is done accommodating to people’s and society’s expectations of who she should be and at 40 has realized that being authentic and true to herself is the only and right way for her to be. I may have changed a lot within a decade but what will never change is my love for writing and my purpose to continue to share my story.
Life on the BPD 