Covid and BPD

2020
You’ve given us plenty,
Of crap we could have done without,
But if I scream and shout,
Who exactly would I be helping out?
The elderly,
The vulnerable,
All brushed to one side,
As corona we prioritise,
But I am struggling mentally,
Given up on grounds incapability,
The lack of care,
No one there,
The blame they dish out,
But never admit,
No apology,
For the strain on my mind and body,
A drought of the drugs you so-called critically prescribe,
Termination of support being beside me,
Disregarding my disclosure,
Of suicidal thoughts,
Paying no mind to my plans,
I know I am a lucky one,
Because I have love,
And all that terminates my plans at this time,
But I fear for those whom have no one to keep them about,
Because no matter how much you scream and shout,
The help seem to babble alot of nonsense,
Have no moral conscience,
Promise the world,
And when it comes down to it,
They have no inclination of how to help,
Despite it being in their favour,
Because this abandonment way means,
Less traffic,
Less demand for beds,
We’re no longer a problem,
And so they are released of our burden when we are dead!
There has been no intervention,
Because suicide prevention,
Means more bodies,
More fuss,
More voices,
Popular advice,
Just shhhhhh!

Simulation

For the unempathetic,
The unsympathetic,
That once thought ill mental health was pafetic,
Welcome to my world.
I say this sincerely,
As it is quite clear to me,
That your mentality is crossing borders unknown.
The lockdown zone,
Not being able to leave the house,
Estranged from loved ones (perhaps not reciprocated),
Friends (so-called),
Family (just blood),
That you truly miss but cannot reach.
Is something you never get used to,
Yet I am so very familiar with,
And feel warranted to preach,
A feeling and sensation that I would never knowingly share,
But I know it has its claws on the masses of you out there.
The paranoia,
The fear,
The new,
The way to close to home,
Is on all of our doorsteps.
We are warranted to threat,
About lack of finances and debt,
Whether we have had the virus yet,
The high possibility of death.
Wanting to go out,
Being mentally restricted,
Is just as gruelling as when restrictions are leagully inflicted.
Feeling restrained,
Contained,
Maintained.
When and how will it end?
The mania,
Hysteria,
May manifest,
As we flap our wings,
Without flight,
Wrapped up,
In a blanket of maybe and might.
Nothing is certain,
Nothing is for sure,
Don’t practice self blame,
If you are feeling insecure.
Just follow suit,
And hope.
When this all passes,
And we have said our goodbyes,
To this delicate yet tremendous stamp in history,
Please remember the simulation,
Of mental dismay and fraustration,
And spare kind thoughts to the mentally vulnerable always in this situation.

You Can Turn Me Off…

When is it that you stopped loving me?
Did I push you to far?
When did you decide to not accept my illness?
Blame me from your distress?
I look to you for comfort,
Dream of being in your arms,
Being held,
Being hugged,
Being kissed,
Being loved.
You’re no longer in my life as much,
That tells me that you no longer care,
That I am stuck all alone out there.
If I were younger,
Would you be more involved?
Do you believe that age affects what is in my control?
Tough love is not for me.
Your silence is killing me.
Always know that I love you,
But I cannot be the strong self sufficient person that you want me to.
Seperating yourself works for you,
But let’s not pretend that you are doing all that you can do.
It is disappointing,
You are turning a blind eye,
Racing forward as a separate unit,
And have left me behind.
I don’t want you to be in pain,
For me to be a strain,
I think you have had people in your ear,
That separation has given you that uplifting shift in gear,
But if you leave me for too long,
I cannot promise that I will always be here,
This is not a threat,
But a declaration of my constant fear,
You can turn me off,
But the only way for me to,
Is to completely dissappear.

Imperfections;

If you asked me to write a list of all my perfections,
I’ll be honest with you,
That would be something I would find very hard to do.
But if you asked me to write a list of all my imperfections, I’d say how honest do you want me to be with you?
As the list will go on for days and days,
And it’s frustrating because in many ways my weaknesses gives me strength,
But they also keep me down.
I can’t tell you how many doors have been shut in my face,
Because I have been unable to keep up with the pace,
Be the winner,
Knocking everyone out of the race,
First place!
I’m used to loosing now,
Not placing at all,
But I know deep down I’ve not given up,
I still can feel it,
Nothing can destroy all of that,
And as a reminder
the blisters on my fingers show that I’m a fighter,
I’ve just had to change lanes.
We all fall,
But we don’t all get back up.
Judge me from a far,
Once destined to be a star,
You now may think of me as a looser,
That I have been dropped out,
That I have given up,
But you’re wrong to doubt me,
I’m still standing,
I’m just leaning,
Got my crutch whilst I’m healing,
It’s more of a feeling,
Like how longs a piece of string,
Or the distance from the floor to the ceiling,
Then a measurement of time that can be reeled in.
So delicate,
Yet still strong,
I want to prove the ignorant wrong,
But that is not where my strength comes from,
At my lowest,
When all those around me had given up,
You stood up to give me a chance,
It sounds sickly to say that I have been saved by romance,
But all I ever needed was to feel unconditionally loved for the longest time,
As long as me memory serves me,
My history,
So many have left me permanently,
Not hot and cold,
My sensitivities persieve that as bitter,
I need continuity,
Consistency,
Not inconsistency,
Blinding me,
Leaving me in now way too familiar territory,
I once thought my only hope was a magical remedy,
To give me credibility,
To get back on the right tracks of my journey,
To get back to being strong,
But we were all wrong,
The super glue I need to keep things together,
In order to get better,
Even on rainy days,
Misty and blue,
Was always you,
I was destined to meet you,
You let me hold onto you and you hold onto me too.
You’re my one true perfection,
So that’s one for that list,
With your help I am slowly administrating personal correction,
And under your protection,
Just like this imperfection list in question,
I know some day,
I’m going to make it through,
Change lanes,
And all those closed doors,
I’m gonna burst right through!
It is hard to be me,
Hard to be with me gauging by history,
You’re making it look easy,
One more positivity,
You,
You make me happy to be me,
Confident to know that I will one day gather more control of BPD,
Feel less heavy from all the pain,
Be able to manage and restrain,
And hopefully be free,
Feeling lighter,
With a higher ratio of positivity,
Enabling my rehabilitation to be the best me.

Navigate through the darkness of BPD

I promise not to be angry with you if you decide to walk away and stray elsewhere,
I most probably will be upset,
But as a veteran reject,
Every dumping gets a little easier to accept.
I do not mean to be high maintenance,
I do not mean to be a bother,
I want to explore happiness with you,
But here’s a warning,
I often get exceptionally blue.
I know depression can be mind boggling,
Psychosis scary,
Severe anxiety incomprehensible,
Self harm revolting,
Suicide attempts mortifying,
Dissociation offensive,
Self isolation frustrating,
Especially if those are things you have never personally had to get through,
But know this…
I did not volunteer to suffer from the woes that I constantly endure,
But on the border I am locked up in chains,
BPD does not define me,
But is a huge Part of me.
Borderline Personality Disorder is a complex illness that should not be ignored or overlooked!
In brief moments of clarity, When thinking rationally,
I can understand why you may be weary of me,
All the blood,
All the tears,
All the lows,
All the Downs,
All of the seeds of self doubt, All of the the panic,
Makes being in my life a heavy duty,
And for me living life,
Utter turmoil consistently.
Like a yoyo,
I am up and down all day,
But this is not a game,
Should it be,
I would never play.
For you,
I don’t want to be an obligation,
The hated person in your life, As much as it pains me,
If my condition is too much for you to comprehend,
I would rather you hurt and offend me,
Dessert me,
Take flight,
Then pretend to be there for me.
Communication would make it easier to process,
But the pain as sharp none the less,
Yet your confession less of a catalyst for stress.
For those of you that are consistent,
Devoted,
I truly adore and thank you,
For those that have turned their backs,
I wish perhaps you had a little more patience,
And took the time to try to understand that my illness and it’s symptoms are not something I can control,
Not anymore more than I already am,
I cannot turn on or off on command,
You cannot force or demand, That I reach upto your expectations,
So neither should you pick and chose when you want me in your life,
I just want you to hold my hand,
Be it literal,
Or virtual due to distance, Don’t turn a blind eye,
Dismiss my ill mental health, All the work I am doing to hold things down,
And be my best self.
Please don’t just chime in on social media if I’ve had a public breakdown,
Or turn up if I’m in hospital, Or buried dead and gone,
That would ultimately be too little too late.
It is important that there are no delusions,
That I know exactly who is there for me,
And therefor where I belong.
Feeling loved makes me strong,
Gives me the super drive to hold on,
Reminds me of my entitlement to stay here and live on.
To feel love,
Be loved,
And be strong.
The ignorant,
Shallow,
Disloyal,
Unfeeling,
Can do one,
As I strive to destination happy place,
Manage to navigate through the dark,
I hope to feel like I belong,
To be brave,
That’s all that I crave.

Ugly Mess…

Am I weak?
Do you disapprove of the approval that I seek?
Are you aware of your neglect,
And the emotional debt that you are racking up with me.
Can you not hear nor see?
The division between us is making me feel empty,
Worthless,
You have cut the string prematurely,
I do not feel free.
I do not want your sympathy,
But I would relish in your empathy.
How can you be so blind,
And not admit that you have left me behind.
It is your duty to fix and solidify the devide between us,
To eliminate any confusion or fuss,
By keeping us wholesome.
Once a pair,
Then an equal square,
Now a triangle,
Or a pentagon,
Where has my place gone?
Should I try one more time to let you know,
Or just keep the memories alive of the good times,
Be happy for you,
And let you go?
I have tried to articulate my feelings,
To orchestrate some emotional healing,
I am the outsider without the key,
No longer immediate family.
Each chapter of our story,
I appear less and less,
As you clear out the cobwebs of ugliness,
And release me,
The ugly mess.

Face The Music

Tis time to face the music,
Cha-Cha-Cha,
Kiss my teeth,
I’m not wining,
Connected,
Or in sync,
The rhythm is off beat.
I feel the heat,
Let rum punch quench my thirst,
Loosen me up just right,
Don’t want to be to weak,
And have to admit to defeat.
I don’t mean to let anyone down,
I don’t want any competition,
I smile in your direction,
You scowl at me and frown,
Turning blue,
As I approach you shyly,
With a step by step,
One,
Two Three.
It seems you despise my company,
Aware of this I was not,
But now I’ve got the message,
Loud,
Clear,
Fast,
Direct and hot.
As I leap towards you,
You two step back,
I waltz around you,
Try to entice you with a spell,
You swing away from me,
You’re jazz hands say no way and goodbye,
Leaving me alone on the dance floor,
I watch you saunter off and sore,
Me bruised and broken,
No moves left to chase you,
I’ve been through them,
Did you ever love me at all?

You Can Take It Or Leave It, But Not Me!

Living with mental illness,
Feels like a life sentence of imprisonment,
A one way ticket to Hell.
Depression,
Feels like burning in eternal flames.
Anxiety,
Feels like suffercation.
Disscociation,
A comatose nightmare.
Psychosis,
Operated by The Devil as a puppeteer.
I am the helpless fly,
Entangled in the spiders web.
I am drowning,
Completely lost at sea.
I am but half the person that I hoped to be.
The socialite,
That no one now wants to see.
Washed up goods.
Abandoned in the woods.
I radiate pain,
So you turn a blind eye to me.
Convince yourself that this situation was somewhere that I wanted to be.
I never wanted to be unhappy,
Cast aside,
Left behind,
Have a little more respect for me!?
If you don’t understand,
Have no time to try,
At least try to accept,
That the life that I live,
I never chose this path for me,
This torture,
This misery,
You can take it or leave it,
But this is real,
And you may not like what you hear and see,
But this is real life,
And really happening to me!

Left Sore…

Stranded and alone,
I felt scared,
All of my positivity disappeared.
Let down,
I could not fathom your mood,
Left as easy bate,
I was lucky to have not been pursued,
As I sat crying,
No idea where I was,
In the dark,
At an unfriendly time.
The truth is,
I am not well,
Even the slightest trigger,
Could send me to hell!
The incident plays and replays in my head,
Just a little hiccup for you,
Drove me to despair,
Nearly ending up dead.
And yet still no apology,
How very disappointing,
And unfair,
Did you even care?
Now safe,
Home at last,
Yet the memory of the incident,
I cannot put down to the past!
It will stay in my head forever more,
Emotionally bruised,
And very sore.