The Power of a Correct Diagnosis | Living with BPD


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.

Continue reading “The Power of a Correct Diagnosis | Living with BPD”

Power of Friendship Poem | Farewell Oregon

My friendships made me feel love,

When I didn’t allow romance.

My friendships kept me warm,

When all I could feel was cold.

Without real friendship,

Without platonic love,

I wouldn’t be alive.

Continue reading “Power of Friendship Poem | Farewell Oregon”

Content | Living with Bipolar Disorder


Author’s Note: This is the first time in 10 years I haven’t been in a depressive (or 5% of the time hypomanic) episode. 

I forgot how this feels:

Content

The absence of external stimuli,

Coupled with a lack of internal.

And yet?

Not surrounded by misery,

Not consumed by fatigue,

Not drowned by disinterest.

Instead?

Continue reading “Content | Living with Bipolar Disorder”

My College Freshman Crush | 9 BPD Symptoms: Idolization & Devaluation


Brand new to adulthood.

Brand new to college.

Brand new to bisexuality.*

When you caught my eye,

I was not looking for friendship.

I remember feeling startled —

You took my breath away.

So I left my new roommate,

And I follow you to the elevator…

You laughed at something dumb I said.

Did you realize you had a grip on me?

You held the power in our friendship?

Congrats Z — you were the first,

The one & only,

Close friend I ever fell for.

To be fair to my poor lesbian heart,

You were exactly my type,

And I never wanted friendship.

Continue reading “My College Freshman Crush | 9 BPD Symptoms: Idolization & Devaluation”

Gemela & #1 Amiga | Living with Borderline Personality Disorder

Spanish word meaning: “twin sister”

Dear Gemela,

I love you.

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.

Even since we met,

Since I was a sad,

Angry,

Broken child.

You were the bright light,

The brightness in Utah’s clouds.

Continue reading “Gemela & #1 Amiga | Living with Borderline Personality Disorder”

If you want to know me, read my poetry

I could write a million stanzas,

And still not convey what I mean.


“If you want to know me,

Read my poetry.”

Is that it? Is that all? 

Do you know me now?

Perhaps you know me as much as you can,

From a one-sided conversation.


What’s the point of it, then?

Of poetry, or the written word at all?

When it’s one person speaking,

And another one listening along?


Is that a human connection?

One person listens to another.

Is that the reason we write?

Or is it just the start?