ALL MENTAL HEALTH WRITTEN WORD
Over stimulating keeps you running, Free time congregates over-thinking. You would rather drag the deadweight, Than exist part of the moment. Even when running on empty, Where there’s nothing left to carry.
No one answers the question: How are humans supposed to feel? Begging the follow-up inquiry: Do all mental states possess illness(es)?
Nearing the final level, A coinless Sonic is hit, No lives left to revive him. . . Game Over. Start Over? Yes / No
Just work your life away, What is the harm in that? Who has time for self-care, When you can make money?
Her memory takes hold, When I never held her. Magnetism drew us together, Palpable at first encounter. Our obstructive accompaniment, Could never survive either’s journey. Objectively knowing? Does nothing for the heart.
Wonder if I truly need them, Ponder what changes due to them, Fonder each day passes without them, Absconder each night staring at them.
If only I would’ve been stupid,
It would’ve been unable to hide.
If therapists could’ve read my mind,
The diagnosis would’ve been easy.
Those 10 years of decay,
My symptoms were right there. . .
You did your job,
You protected the child.
You’re too good at your job,
I’m not a child anymore.
What a cruel thing to do:
Making love look disgusting.
Something I had to avoid,
At all and every cost.
I hated it,
Just like you wanted.
I was misdiagnosed 5 times,
Confirming my soul was evil.
A single correct diagnosis?
Freed me from the delusion.
Like flipping a light switch,
My pain had a purpose.
Was once called:
Reach in somewhere,
Yank it forward.
THAT IS NOT IT.
[Author’s Note: This is the first time in 10 years I haven’t been in a depressive (or 5% of the time manic) episode.]
I forgot how this feels:
The absence of external stimuli,
Coupled with a lack of internal.
Borderline is part of “Cluster B” personality disorders, affectionately known as the “Dominant” or “Control” cluster.
This is a short write-up, but does not take my typical poetry format. Instead, think of it as a quick and dirty guide to Cluster Bs in the business world. . .
I was the Antichrist.
I’m taking it as a sign,
Borderline’s mad at me. . .
[“Psychotic hallucinations seem to be an important feature of BPD.” This poem is really not as intense as it sounds…]
When it happens 5 times,
You’re pretty sure it’s reality.
You must just be evil. . .
[Disclaimer: This poem DOES NOT mean you shouldn’t go to therapy! In fact, EVERYONE should go to therapy!
However, misdiagnosis do happen, and are common for personality disorders. If you are a therapist, please read this poem in it’s entirety. That includes specific quotes “Borderline” said to confuse my therapists.]
Brand new to adulthood.
Brand new to college.
Brand new to bisexuality*
When you caught my eye,
I was not looking for your friendship.
[Alt Title: The one & only time]
Spanish word meaning: “twin sister”
You are like a sister to me.
Not “like” a sister,
My twin sister.
Always on my side,
Against anyone who’s not.
You always have been.
I was not a kind friend to you,
I should have been.
I did like both of you,
I just liked the games more.
[Disclaimer: This poem is written about how I acted as at 5-10 years old. This poem contains descriptions of early stages of Borderline PD.]
What could I do?
What could I say?
Tell them we had feelings?
We felt the same pain?
[Warning: Poetic descriptions of violent homophobia and use of two homophobic slurs.]
No actual thoughts in my adolescent diaries,
Only what happened during my day.
All so boring,
[Warning: Poetry contains BPD thoughts and symptoms.]
Anyone with Borderline knows your love & devotion to a close friend does not prevent negative delusional thoughts and feelings.
This poem explores my experiences with my best friend and managing my BPD symptoms caused by childhood trauma.
I tried to kill my evil side.
Most time it would evade clutch,
Openly mocking my attempts.
Other times. . .
I can’t quite reach it I’m hitting up against a wall If only it was physical Not a wall in my mind. . .
“I’m not going to get married”
“…to a man” was unsaid.
Difference it made, unknown when
It was first uttered.