BPD For Me

BPD, for me, means I never figured out how anyone could love me. It means doubting the intentions of others no matter how long I've known them. BPD, for me, is my inner wounded child taking the wheel and sabotaging everything... and somehow not realizing it until I return to a more regulated state. BPD, for me, is fearing unconditional love because I habitually, if subconsciously keep looking for a list of conditions to perform for others. Not finding this list actually ignites distress. BPD, for me, looks like not understanding boundaries most of the time... I love intensely but often offer it in a distorted way. I know I'm loved but rarely feel loved. BPD, for me, looks like being fatally optimistic... meaning every time I entered a state of pure euphoria... I always assumed that level of unfettered joy was a sign... a sign that I had healed enough to fly. BPD, for me, means I have always had a distorted sense of self... which caused some relationships to become distorted It means that most of the time I don't know what I want. BPD, for me, is not knowing I'm dysregulated when experiencing euphoria... BPD, for me, looks like dysregulation that often starts too subtly to notice... It looks like dysregulation disguised as groundedness followed by me careening down the rabbit-hole of delusions of lovelessness. And lastly, BPD, for me, feels like being puppeteered into the worst cases of self-sabotage.

A Perspective That Allows for (Self)Compassion

        First off, this is not meant to be accusatory nor an excuse. It was always my responsibility to honor my truth and to seek appropriate treatments for my struggle(s) with mental health. Secondly, I am writing this more to give myself grace than to ask for grace from you. Although, I do hope it helps create a cleaner break should you decide we part ways.  
        We focused on 1 proverbial taproot and ignored the other one by looking at the question: "What do you get from this behavior?" Then and now, I feel that this over-simplified my experience(s) by making it a matter of will-power. This question made my fight out to be something it wasn't...it made it out to be easy. Once I agreed that the fight was an easy one, I dropped my guard all the way down and my unhealthy brain was given free reign.
       I was never seeking attention. I was seeking connection in an unbalanced way. I felt a profound need to re-establish or re-solidify the belief that I was loved and cared for and to do so far too frequently. Attempting to keep the pain (of remorse) a secret caused a great deal of cognitive dissonance which erased my short term memory that Sunday. Cognitive dissonance can cause dysregulation which can then trigger an age regression. At no point could my will-power kick in because it did not yet have the needed scaffolding…something I can gain through Dialectical Behavior Therapy.
       Discovering the likelihood that I have BPD has led me to second guess my feelings and my interpretation of everything, which is good. I should have been more willing to question my perspective. With that in mind, a part of me feels as though I loved you enough to allow your opinion* to replace my truth. 

*about the status of my mental health & my supposed ability to override the brain injury that CPTSD truly is. And I can...in time. But first I had to acknowledge it and name it.

Rise As the Phoenix 2.0

If you are like me,
you have often wondered
why you have suffered so.
If you are like me
you have often wondered
how you are going to make it
through the impenetrable darkness.
And if you are like me,
you have often wondered
"why am I here" and 
"what is the meaning of my life?"

Our task is to give meaning
to our own suffering
to let our hardships direct us
in ways to love one another.

Our task is to rise out of the ashes of our suffering
with the realization that we are the phoenix
who die and are reborn in the same fire
and then to share that discovery with the rest of humanity.

But just like any new-born
we must be patient with ourselves
as well rediscover who we are
after surviving the all consuming flame.
We have to be patient with ourselves
as our wings grown in strength...
as our wings replace their downy fluff
with feathers built for flight.

And in the meantime we must maintain our faith
that we will learn to fly again.
That though we feel small,
weak, and vulnerable after hardships
those feelings won't stay with us forever
as long as we set that intention.

With that I declare, "Let me wake up from the darkness,
let me open my eyes to the light that never left my side."
I shall rise out of the Hell-fires, I shall rise out of the ashes,
a bird of fire.
A bird of fire reaching out to sibling Phoenix scattered everywhere.
Light bringers, let's bring the dawn. Let's chase away the darkness...
or more accurately, let's wake up the darkness.

When Love Outweighs the Weight of the World

When the love within outweighs fear,
we can take loving actions despite the fear
and open the doorway to healing.

When the love within outweighs anger
we can take loving actions despite the anger
and open the doorway to grace.

When love outweighs the weight of the world,
we will know how to take loving actions.
We will know how to support the world in its healing.

When the love within outweighs despair
we will know how to take loving actions despite the despair
and open the doorway to hopefulness.

When the love within outweighs shame
we will know how to take loving actions despite the shame
and open the doorway to self-love.

When love outweighs the weight of the world,
we will know how to take loving actions.
We will know how to support the world in its healing.

Nobody Told Me I'd Be the Crazy One

Nobody told me I'd be the crazy one.
No...seriously you guys, I never
knew that I would
become so crazy in this incarnation.
No one warned me that I'd experience enough 
developmental trauma that
I'd end up with C-PTSD, BPD, PMDD...
you know all the good stuff...
Anywho...just wanted to start this
post with a little pre-emptive comic relief...
Not that there is a need for 
adding a Trigger Warning for this share.
It just about growing up in a world where
no one could relate to me and
where I struggled to relate to others.


Thirty-four years ago,
I was born into a war-zone.
And when I got adopted
and left this war-zone
six and a half years later,
my nervous system never got the memo
and remained hypervigilant.
I remained incapable of trusting anyone.

Nobody told me I'd be the crazy one.

It was in elementary school that
I became ashamed of the fact
that I was the only kid to cry in class
and to do so over tiny things.

Nobody told me I'd be the crazy one.

Throughout my childhood I felt
perpetually misunderstood;
I felt like an alien and
always wondered what it would be like
to be the consciousness
behind someone else's eyes.
It bugged me that I could not explore
the world as anyone other than me.

Nobody told me I'd be the crazy one.

I grew up believing that
if anything bad happened,
it'd be my fault,
and anything that went right
would have nothing to do with me.

Nobody told me I'd be the crazy one.

It was in middle school that I developed
the version of OCD that involved
pulling my hair out.
I would know what I was doing
but I guess the self-soothing effect
outweighed my desire to stop.

Nobody told me I'd be the crazy one.

It was in high school I learned
that I was afraid of 'yes' or 'no' questions,
and would sometimes say,
"It doesn't matter,"
in response.

Nobody told me I'd be the crazy one.

I'm in my thirties now and
have only just recently
discovered that two fears
are running my life.
I fear I am unlovable and
I am afraid...
afraid of unconditional love...
and these fears left me stranded
within an illusion.

Nobody told me I'd be the crazy one.

I've been perpetually seeking
the "conditions" I must meet
in order for another being to love me.
I've learned that I am 
capable of mistaking
my inner child's survival
instincts for intuition
and that this error in judgment
can ruin relationships.

Nobody told me I'd be the crazy one.

I blew up my life recently.
My inner child took the wheel
and began sabotaging everything
without the inner parent even noticing.
Maybe the inner parent wasn't even there.

Nobody told me I'd be the crazy one.

Looking back,
I can see the pattern
so clearly.
I have habitually hyper-fixated on
my mistakes and would imprison myself
behind thicker and thicker walls of
guilt and shame.
I've learned,
at long last, that
when we over-identify with
our falls, we will
never learn to fly.

Guilt and shame are
unnecessary chains...
even though we tend to 
believe that we
are imprisoning ourselves
for the sake of
those we have wronged.
I learned that
shame and guilt
aren't things that
can make me a good person.

I Give Thanks Anyway

 I Give Thanks Anyway

My father ripped my roots apart before

I had even been planted

and then he tried to bury me in his hopelessness...

but I give thanks anyway.

My father planted shame within my heart,

causing me to forget my innocence...

but I give thanks anyway.

I give thanks because his actions required me to become light,

they required me to become strong.

I give thanks because his actions required me to rebuild myself in my own image,

for they set me on a never-ending scavenger hunt for all the missing beautiful parts of me.

I thank my father for teaching me how to rebuild my roots.

I thank my father for teaching me the importance of self-love.

I thank him for teaching me how to rebuild my sense of self.

I thank him for teaching me how to rebuild a faulty foundation

by cultivating self-trust, by cultivating faith,

by leaning on the power of the Universe.

I thank him for requiring me to seek an unconditionally loving parent in a God I had ceased to believe in.

I thank him for requiring me to earnestly seek my own inner strength, my own inner light.

I thank him for requiring me to find my own path to wholeness,

to innocence,

to profound peace

by seeking and reclaiming all the missing beautiful parts of me.

I express deep gratitude for his soul's choice to spend a lifetime in chains in order to teach me how to break free...

and how to become unbreakable.
The foundation I rebuild will be immune to earthquakes.

The faith I rebuild will be immune chaos, immune to entropy.

The form of self-love I cultivate will no longer believe in the value of people-pleasing,
will no longer believe in the value of an inferiority complex. 

I will have an unshakeable sense of self after reclaiming all the missing, beautiful parts of me.

I had to become the fire that kept me warm.

I had to become the light to see where my feet met the path.

I had to become the peace that could comfort my heart.

I had to become the love that could replenish my peace.

I had to become the grace that could save my soul.

Thank You and F*ck You

To the Department of Social Services:

Thank you for intervening in our care,
but fuck you for ignoring all the
crystal clear signs of my incestuous trauma
and fuck you for disregarding and dismissing
the concerns brought to you about this.
Thank you for sending us to safe foster families
and fuck you for sometimes sending us back
to the abuse and neglect.
Thank you for putting us up for adoption,
but fuck you for scheduling weekly visits with my abuser.

The inactions on your part caused us so much harm.
Even after the adoption,
I spent my life feeling as though
I wasn’t allowed to have needs,
that it wasn’t safe to express myself.
Even though our current parents are safe,
I have spent my life unable to come to them
about my struggles….
To the point that
when I found myself in excruciating pain
in the middle of the night,
I could not bring myself
to wake my mother up.
I was more willing to risk death that night
than interrupt my mother’s precious sleep.

Thank you for saving us,
but fuck you for your incompetence.
Thank you for giving us a shot at a brighter future,
and fuck you for giving us all so many extra wounds to carry.