Cruel | Homophobic Trauma Recovery using Buddhism

What a cruel thing to do:

Making love look disgusting.

Something I had to avoid,

At all and every cost.


I refused it,

Just like you told me.

I hated it,

Just like you wanted.

Buried it deep down inside,

Extinguished it within me.

Continue reading “Cruel | Homophobic Trauma Recovery using Buddhism”

The 5th Time I Was Misdiagnosed | Living with BPD

Disclaimer: This poem DOES NOT mean you shouldn’t go to therapy! In fact, EVERYONE should go to therapy! However, if you think there is even a SLIGHT chance you have a personality disorder, GO TO AN EXPERT. Not a general therapist. Don’t make the same mistake I made 5 times. It took an expert 6 months to fully diagnose what 5+ years of various forms of therapy couldn’t even guess.

If you are a therapist, please read (or scroll) to the end for signs/clues you should know regarding the 9 symptoms of Borderline Personality Disorder.


When it happens 5 times,

You’re pretty sure it’s reality.

You must just be evil.

You must just be broken.

You must just be worthless.

It isn’t a disorder,

It’s you.

That was the fear.

No, not a fear —

That was the reality.

A reality. 

Continue reading “The 5th Time I Was Misdiagnosed | Living with BPD”

What Could a Young Lesbian Do? Homophobic Bullying Recovery

What could I do? 

What could I say?

How could I stop them? 


Tell them we aren’t a threat to them?

We aren’t immoral demons from below?

Explain why they’re taught to hate us?


How could I tell them,

When they wouldn’t hear me? 

How would I tell them,

When I couldn’t breathe?


How could I tell them when they openly mocked my people? 

How could I tell them when they openly debated my rights?

How could I tell them when they openly beat him into submission?


Should I have screamed over their taunting?

Forced myself between them and the Faggot?

So the Dyke can be tortured as well?

Continue reading “What Could a Young Lesbian Do? Homophobic Bullying Recovery”

Free-Write to Coax Repressed Memory (Traumatic Dissociation)

I can’t quite reach it

I’m hitting up against a wall

If only it was physical

Not a wall in my mind. . .

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Imagine the Blessed Day | Lesbophobia Childhood Trauma

“I’m not getting married”

…to a man was unsaid.


Not imaginable, the day

Nor the flowers, or bouquet


What a day it could be!

Those purest gathered around us,

Sharing the moment two souls join in God.


“What will he look like?”

Why can’t I see him?


“What will he say to you?”

Why can’t I hear him?


“What will his personality be?”

Why can’t I imagine him?


“Imagine the blessed day,

your wedding day,

an eternal husband awaits.”

Why can’t I breathe?