Maze of Me
My mind is a tidal wave of thoughts, roaring over the heavy roads until at last the engine dies. They trigger me like a gun without the bullet, observing my reaction, its damage insignificant to those around me. I am not wounded by sight, yet I feel crimson stains beneath my skin.
I am sad, I think. And yet I smile.
I am happy, I know. Yet saltwater slides over my cheeks.
Will the mind’s perplexities ever be understood as they intertwine and dig deeper into the pit of my subconscious? Thoughts hold blind control over me. I am merely the fallen apple in Newton’s theory, reacting to the forces around me. The cause of my actions reaches to my conscious, begs me to understand my own reactions.
Yet I falter in the maze of my mind. Forever I am a mystery to myself.
Stigma
You're right, that isn't a big deal
(Yes it is)
No, I'm not mad
(I'm furious but I don't know why)
Are you sure you'll never leave me?
(I'm paranoid that you will)
Sorry I spaced out
(I have no idea who I am or what is going on)
*bloody knuckles*
I lost a fight with a door, haha
(I wanted to feel something, anything)
I'm having an off day
(every day is an off day and an on day)
I'm just tired
(It is exhausting keeping up with myself)
Do you love me?
(I hate myself)
I am unpredictable in the most predictable way.
As I sit and write, thinking about how I could possibly describe borderline personality disorder, I am taken back to the most recent time I had to explain myself to someone: I work in the mental health field, trying to help kids and their families deal with trauma and develop healthier habits, and, during a consult with the "team," a co worker of mine made a joke about how people with BPD have homicidal ideation. This struck a chord with me (for one, having BPD and 2, being so obtuse in our field), but I was thankful that when I reached out to him, he was receptive to the discussion. He wanted to know more and apologized for his comment. I was pleasantly surprised, although, was at a loss for words as to how to describe what I go through on a daily basis. I don't even know how my mind can function being in so many places at once. But I prevail, and I pray for more people, like my co worker, to fight against the stigma; to normalize my irrational, irregular self.
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HEEERRR'Luuuke'krackle kracklekeerrrrrr
Skerrrrr'I am Your Father.' SKERRR
(EPIC EPIPHANY MUSIC)
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