Confirming my soul was evil.
A single correct diagnosis?
Freed me from the delusion.
Like flipping a light switch,
My pain had a purpose.
Continue reading “The Power of a Correct Diagnosis | Living with BPD”Mental health, Buddhist teachings, and Lesbian poetry I hid in the depths of my soul for 20+ years.
Confirming my soul was evil.
A single correct diagnosis?
Freed me from the delusion.
Like flipping a light switch,
My pain had a purpose.
Continue reading “The Power of a Correct Diagnosis | Living with BPD”Borderline is part of “Cluster B” personality disorders, affectionately known as the “Dominant” or “Control” cluster. This is a short free-write exercise, 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.
Cluster B Personality Disorders: 4 / 10 PDs
In 2020 USA, Cluster B is disproportionately represented in corporate leadership. Roughly 2-5% of USA adults have a Cluster B personality disorder, while experts estimate 8-12% of CEOs blatantly exhibit all of Cluster B’s traits.
How do symptoms often show up in business leadership?
Continue reading “B is for Business | Cluster B Personality Disorders”Disclaimer: This poem addresses how I acted as a 5-10 year old child. If you are one of the people this poem is written for, please do not take this as me asking for you to reach out or forgive me. This is merely an expressive art therapy process in the form of a free-write poem. I have written it “for” you as my formal apology for any psychological trauma I may have caused you during our childhood friendship.
[Author’s Note: This poem was written immediately after a PTSD episode. It is very raw.]
I was not a friend to you.
I should have been.
I did like both of you,
I just liked the games more.
I liked the lies,
The manipulations.
I liked pitting you against each other.
It made me feel powerful,
When I had no other power. . .
Continue reading “Apology Poem for F* & T* | BPD Early Signs: Toxic Friendship”No actual thoughts in my adolescent diaries,
Only what happened during my day.
All so boring,
So sterile.
What happened at school,
What happened at church,
What happened at work,
What happened at home.
Nothing on my thoughts.
“Your thoughts are normal, no need to keep track.”
Nothing on what I want from life.
“Your life won’t last long, no need to fantasize.”
I don’t care what happened during my day,
I care about what I felt during my day.
But I didn’t write it down,
Writing it down makes it real.
I tried to kill my evil side.
Most times it would evade clutch,
Openly mocking my attempts.
Other times it would allow touch,
Slyly preventing my movements.
It never stopped
waiting,
watching,
whispering.
I desperately tried to kill my evil side,
While my evil side easily killed me.