All over the TV

This girl can bare the character of many faces, Believe me she’s going places, On the right path she’s going to the top,
She ain’t never gonna stop.
Her big dream,
Achievable,
Not a fantasy,
Reality,
This is her destiny.
All the bumps fuel the pumps of ignition,
She’s wound up and ready to go, Despite many attempts of ruining her flow,
You supported her she needed that,
But now all is lost,
To the debt of a mighty cost, Once proud now ashamed and distant practically lost.
I never meant to embarrass you, I never meant to let you down,
I never took away all the air,
I never wanted to drown.
Now so many have surpassed me,
I see them all over TV,
Whilst I stay back suffering from mental fragility,
I know the top is a place,
A place that has no room or space for a loser like me,
Mentally fit and positively different I wish it could be, I’ll be the one on the box for all to see,
I’ll be the one making you proud cashing in the money,
And because I’m not,
You’ve forgotten how to love me,
I never needed you back then when I was independent and strong,
I was on the right path on the right track and knew where I belong,
Out of everything that I’ve lost what saddens me the most is losing you,
I’m truly sorry for any pain or torture I put you through,
I wish you understood that my mental instability is not not a path that I would have chosen for me or to hurt you,
BPD is not what I ever believed I had,
Would ruin me,
Ouch this path pains me,
More than it does you,
It’s true,
And no matter what though,
I love you.

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.

BPD

I feel very much on the border today,
Sanity verses Insanity,
Battling to keep up with humanity,
Desiring being a deity,
Fraustration triggering profanity,
I am just really struggling with being me,
Wholesome and free,
Struggling with the idea that I could have been anything that I wanted to be,
When fully engulfing BPD stole everything and my personality,
Placing me in a future that no one could forsee,
Taking me off track and putting me in an entirely different category.

Destined For Disaster…

Staring at the wall again,
Trying to remember when,
Everything was so good back then,
Looking back at photo’s,
Trawling through social media,
The filtered photo’s deceive ya,
Me and the Girls,
Me and the Boys,
Cocktails,
Mocktails,
Endless joys,
Youth,
Freedom,
Expression,
Creativity,
Power,
Sexy,
Sassy,
PARTY!
Those years were golden,
I now understand the phrase,
But gradually everyone has grown,
Moved on,
Progressed to the next phase,
Transitioned in only the best ways,
Detached from the old days,
And the only one left in pain,
Sad and angry,
Is me!
Stuck in a rut,
The door hammered shut,
I am so far removed from them,
They don’t bat an eyelid,
But even if they did,
They don’t see,
They don’t recognise me,
I am the lone soldier,
That basks in the memories,
That they did leave.
How is it fair,
That those who have done me wrong,
Have moved forward,
Happy and strong?
I was insignificant then,
And I am insignificant now.
Staring at the wall again,
Straining to remember when,
There were no voices.
What shall I do?
Take some pills and end it?
Make myself bleed to control it?
Talk to someone?
I cannot.
If things don’t mend and positively change,
I just don’t think I can go on.
Anchored by trauma,
Separating me from old dreams,
Repelling dreams a new,
I loose my desire to push for a break through,
I cannot foresee anything,
I feel so weak,
Not strong,
Perhaps I was destined for despair all along!?

Little White Dove…

As the room spins and the ceiling lowers,
I lay alone on my sofa,
Romanticising about finally being with the one,
Someone,
Not alone,
For once,
When and will I ever meet my Prince,
As time passes,
It becomes increasingly hard to convince,
Me,
Convince me that one day I alone,
Shall become two!
I don’t want to be just me,
I want to be two,
But I must confess,
That loneliness,
Seems to linger,
And manifest,
I sparsely meet people,
And when I do,
The ones with potential,
They show no interest,
And the ones without,
They do,
So whilst the people around me,
Fall in love,
I must still fly solo,
A lonesome little white dove,
Just wishing that I could,
Be as lucky as the rest of you!
And so I must savour my fantasies,
As if they were my realities,
Because love cannot find everyone,
It keeps dodging me,
I must be,
That unlucky someone,
No loving for me,
The illegitimate bustard,
It was never part of my recipe,
And therefor not my destiny,
Love is not for all,
And it is not for me,
The sooner I realise,
The less pain and catastrophe my future will have in store for me.

All The Worlds A Stage; Like The Great Man Said…

All the world’s a stage,
And we are merely players,
Shakespeare told us the secret,
But missed out the complex layers.

You see,
As this earth is constantly spinning,
Simultaneously,
So is the wheel of Fortune,
And like lottery balls,
We are catapulted into the game,
The game of life.

Fate plays it’s hand,
Where we are born,
How we are born,
When we are born,
Pot luck,
Chance determines our paths.
Manipulates our character.

Must we accept what lye’s ahead,
Or maybe choose,
Pick what genuinely suits us?

Change,
Upgrade,
Control our own destiny?

Quit all together,
And terminate whatever!

What the actual F###!?

When you wake up thinking that it is just another day and you habitually vape, check your phone for missed texts, calls, social media messages, statements and recorded visits on my various outlets, once satisfied, I usually take my medication and get out of bed and my day officially begins. One of the texts that I received was off a friend, she said that she had listened to one of my poems on SoundCloud and had really enjoyed it, that compliment ignited my artistic fuel and so I decided that the first task of the day would be to record another. Setting up took a while, choosing the right song, a device to play it from, a source to manipulate volume, my words and another device to record. Getting it right took even longer. Once satisfied, I uploaded and shared it.

When I had finished, I was extremely parched and so I went into the kitchen for the first time that day. I was thinking about food but still felt a little sick for over indulging on my diet snacks in disappointment the night before. I was supposed to be going on a date with someone that I had met online and had been conversing with for two whole weeks. He had cancelled the week before, due to a sustained work injury and being the gullible and helpless romantic that I am, I continued talking to him, at least he had cancelled, the guy that I was supposed to date before, had gone AWOL and so for me this scenario was an improvement. Yet unfortunately it got to date day and I had not heard from him to confirm, I started to get ready whilst making up excuses for him, perhaps he was at work with no access to his phone, as we had planned this date throughout the last week, perhaps he felt no need to check in and confirm. Our date was supposed to be at eight. I didn’t want to come across to intense and insecure but had no desire to get ready and go to meet someone who had seen and ignored my WhatsApp texts. In hope I had begun to get ready, but it got to seven and still not a word. I had officially been stood up, once again. I am rapidly becoming to familiar with this scenario! People complain about bad dates and I can’t even seem to get to the first date stage.
It had been a really bad week for me, being stood up of cause stirs the pangs of abandonment and rejection issues that I already have but not meeting this guy was the least of my worries. I had engaged in a therapy session that I had been anxious about attending, I am better at disclosing stuff to females but with the budget cuts, my only option was a male therapist, the session evoked and awakened the voices that I hear that had admittedly been dormant for at least a month. I had recently received news about having to leave my residence and find a new home, the decision felt heavy and premature to me. My depression had me stuck in a rut, unable to be active, shower, change my clothes and get out of my funk, energy levels low and no desire or motivation. On top of that, my psychosis had come back with a vengeance, my anxiety had me in regular panic attacks and my depression in floods of tears, this was prior to the new therapy about suicidal thoughts, actions and hearing voices that I was due to commence. I was cycling on my wonder core smart one night, whilst sobbing my heart out at the same time, what an image. After therapy with heightened psychosis, I couldn’t rest or sleep properly, disturbed by every sound, music, people, constant chatter and noise, unable to distinguish if the noise was universal or just a burden for me.
When I walked into the kitchen, it looked like the remains of a murder scene! Blood on the floor, surfaces and up the walls. I live alone and so of cause, it had to be my blood. I looked at my body for the first time that day, and discovered blood soaked bandages on my left arm and right leg. What the actual F###!? If I can do such detrimental harm to myself and just forget about it, I fear what may happen next time and in the future. I was clearly unwell, having some kind of episode and quite frankly unsafe to be alone. I was shocked, confused, scared, apprehensive and felt terribly isolated. I wanted to tell someone and ask for help but had strong reservations. Why should I drag people that I care about into this mess? Why reach out to people that I think care about me, only to get shunned and turned away. Why be delusional enough to think that anyone would care when I am just a number, another insignificant and weak being on this planet. Why invite my loved ones into this cobweb of a disaster. Why tell the professionals when I know that, that would result in some serious intervention. I did and do not want to go back to hospital, telling them would result in another psychiatric sentence. I decided to tell them once it had subsided as I believe the incident does need to be logged, yet if it happened again, I would have to swallow my pride and say something.
Throughout that day and the night, I kept seeing gigantic black spiders scuttle across the living room floor. Once again, it was hard to try to get to sleep that night with all of the distractions. I felt this animal jump onto the bed and get really close to my face, paralysed, I could not move or scream. I opened my eyes to see what felt like a fury creature, it was a large black cat with a bushy coat. I turned my head but could still not scream. I don’t have a pet, how did it get in? I hate cats. I was scared that it was more likely to be a rat or something. I had to dig really deep to get movement back into my body and turned the light on as soon as I was free. There was no creature to see but I swear that was not a dream, it was real what had happened to me. This time I decided to call for help, I was still bleeding away. The help said that it was a lucid dream, but I would not accept it and confessed how scared that I was. It was arranged to get a call once the office was open. This was only a few hours away. It was suggested that I get some sleep but I couldn’t and sat up writing. The call came just as I had fallen asleep, there was talk of solutions and action and it was decided that all the information would be relayed back to my mental health team Monday morning and to expect a call. It is now Tuesday and still no call, I even tried to phone them and I am waiting for a call back. I think the worst of it is over now but my illness is unpredictable, I would be a fool to believe that my symptoms are over for good. I hope that this new therapy will help me understand such happenings. What scares me the most, is not being able to remember causing great harm to myself and I fear the severity of injury if it happens again.
Living with severe mental health problems can only be described as an intricate, living nightmare. I believe that it has shaped my destiny, which is to use my experiences of pain and suffering to help others and raise awareness, I have been told that I must die to make an impact. Every time that I see or speak to my little sister, this saddens me.

Destined For Catastrophy

They say that in life,
When we are born,
We are all on a certain path,
But what they don’t tell you,
Is that one decision,
One simple decision,
Can change and alter that path,
In some cases for eternity,
In others,
You may get lost for a little while,
As each path leads to another,
And another,
But the lucky ones,
They finally get back on track,
And fulfil their born destiny,
The luckier ones hurtle in their born direction,
From birth until their end,
But some of us get so lost,
And bewildered in the darkness,
That we loose a sense of self,
And without knowing ones self,
How can one know their own destiny?
I feel that I fall into the later category,
I feel like I am drifting out into the endless and bottomless sea,
And before I took sail,
I had lost every part of me,
Not misplaced,
But lost forever more,
And so I go on,
And on,
And on,
Drifting,
And drifting,
Not sure of my future.
I fear that I may have forsworn my born destiny,
But somehow know that it will be a lonely and bitter end for me,
Whoever, “Me” may be!
I dream and fantasise that one day,
Someone will come along and save me,
But as time passes,
Second’s,
Minute’s,
Hour’s,
Day’s,
Week’s,
Month’s,
Year’s,
That notion seems more and more improbable,
I just cling to it for comfort.
I don’t know what I was born to be,
What life could or should have had in store for me,
But I feel in my bones what will be,
What looms above me,
And it is not pleasant,
Welcomed,
Nor warranted.
It is disaster and catastrophe!