A slam poem about living with borderline personality disorder

borderlineWhen you enrol in the ‘love Yourself Sick’ workshop, you probably don’t realise how much I challenge you to face your fears, and your truths. I certainly do have the motto ‘No pain no gain’ etched into the creations of my therapy. But, I wouldn’t do it if it didn’t work! When people ‘show up” and be honest with themselves and others, miracles happen!

Not only do the women grow to feel better within, but the people they share their journey with, learn about what their going through, and this acceptance and understanding of others is what makes the world a better place.

So, Here is a slam poem from an awesomely brave woman, she has agreed I share with you, through her poem she can help you understand this mental illness. Enjoy x

My brain – the borderline…

Since I can remember I have been confused with my thoughts

Any thoughts… are those thoughts normal? For a while I didn’t know if people had the same thought process as I did… I found out they didn’t. It was called Borderline… for fucks sake…

Day after day passes and its consumed by my brain adjusting to another medication change, going to the Dr, going to work, going to therapy, going to the gym, thinking bout therapy, analysing, over analysing .. thinking about anything, overthinking, not thinking, thinking about yesterday, the day before… you can see where this is going… thinking bout tomorrow, 2 days ahead, end of the week, next week, next month, trying to plan ahead every day in my head… the only time I don’t think is when I’m asleep but my brain likes to wake up at 3am just to get in some more thinking time.

Over analysing the conversations of the day and feeling ashamed of things I’ve said …

On a bad day I don’t feel anything but feel so much at the same time… days like this – no words could explain it , it was just a numbness and sadness I can’t shake…

I’ve had years of thoughts tormenting me, regrets I hang onto for years…the lows feel like… imagine – like a game a child would play with their dad, holding onto dads leg while he tries to walk a few steps, swinging his child along… I feel like I have the weight of 100 people holding onto my legs, dead weight… no laughs… dragging with every step… adding to the dark cloud that constantly hangs over my head.. Some days its lighter than others, but always there. I should be happy I just get out of bed…

Some nights I give in… ‘fuck.it.all’ … they say its passive suicide… whatever it is it’s a self-medicating destructive mix of excessive alcohol, binge eating, codeine taking or sex with a stranger just to try and feel… something.

Then we have the why’s…why do I have borderline – everything you read states the main cause of borderline is being sexually abused, either as a child or adult. But I wasn’t … so what the fuck started this. So many questions! Why am I different? Why do I think different? I want love but I push away anyone who shows me love. I push people away by encouraging them to PUSH me away, trying to give them every reason cause I just have little self-worth – a self-destructive way of losing anyone who actually fucking cares. But all I want is for someone to care. I’m terrified of getting close to someone cause once I do I think they will abandon. I test people, even my psychologist – test people to see how much they would care, expecting them to walk away from me – that I’m in the too hard basket… I set unreasonable expectations on them and myself. No one wins. It’s a cycle I need to break.

Don’t get me wrong, people tell me a lot how I’m ‘amazing’ or ‘strong’… ‘I still think you are able to change your mind in an instant… and ill help you do it.

Stigma – the fucking stigma of mental illness irks me… ‘Why can’t you just be happy’ they say… Choose happiness every day. Embrace life… whatever positive affirmation they have … well why would I fucking choose to be sad, depressed, confused, anxious, frustrated, suicidal and consumed with self-hate when I could be amazingly happy… get a fucking grip. Everyone has battles and my battle contains a chemical imbalance and a side of personality disorder just for shit and giggles… I’m still trying to understand who I am but I do the best I can … fuck normal… I’ll continue to shit in my shit and get comfortable with the uncomfortable…

One day at a time….