Tag Archives: Psychological

Fodder for the fire

Posted by Zeannaroux on

I occasionally plan out rants in my head

Minor thoughts of things I wished I said

But there are times when they take control

When they grow past my original plan

Morphing into something that leaves me with dread

Today’s nightmare happened fairly early

I wanted to debate with friends and family

Regarding abortion.

To make it known, I stand for freedom of choice

Because every voice, is worth listening to

But it’s my voice that I wished was silenced

Because it brought with it memories long passed

I thought I got over it, guess I didn’t

Now it’s dark outside and I am covered with fear

He isn’t here, but I can hear him breathing

The hitched sound of a grown man

As he gazes upon an unexpected child

It has been awhile, since I dreamt this dream

But I can feel him breathing, as though he was in me

I just wanted a clean debate

Wanted to talk about something important you see

But here I am laying dark

Trying to convince my beating heart

That the remembered man is not next to me

Depression and Parenting

Posted by Zeannaroux on

I blame her

Because children are more resourceful

It’s more respectable if she is the reason

I can’t leave my home

I can’t leave my bed

People understand

In ways they can’t if it was just me

“Oh no worries, I know how it is”

“Lmao, that is just how it is with kids”

I blame her

Because it is easier to believe

Why I scream into my pillow

Why I can’t speaks days on end

They understand her

In ways I just don’t get

So I blame her

Just to fit in

A tiny goodbye

Posted by Zeannaroux on

I never got the chance to know the stars. Those flickering scars that rob the sky. Bright blights that hindered my growth. I missed them. Though I promise I never would. Because she is not here to see them. For me, that is reason enough to get rid of them.

The ocean, I despise it. With every moment of the tide I die a little more inside. I rather it fade away. Or give me room to drown. Because I can not bare the sight, while she is no longer around.

These memories, they haunt me. I would rather forget. Because is not here to share in them. I see no reason to give in. To my brain hidden inclination, to remember a forgiving friend.

My ice cream melted

Posted by Zeannaroux on

As he slammed the door I could remember the stickiness the touched my lips. Sweet bitter raspberry, how I hate the flavor. I remember moving my arms to wipe my face but it spread the mess across my cheek. I left it there, from what I can recall, and got up to look at the damage it caused.

They say the mirror does not lie but I digress that such a thing could show what I have tried so hard to repress. The raspberry upon my lips stands so pretty against against my skin. My eyes don’t show how bitter it taste because I do not remember them showing anything. A blank slate. A broken shape. I can remember trying to brush my hair into place.

It’s messy bun that I tied that day. So proud because it frame my face in a way I never thought before. But the raspberry stuck to the strands is all I can remember as I removed the bands. The bands I had picked with him in mind. Coupled with the blush, I felt divine.

But he wasn’t home like he was before. It was my fault and nothing more. When the monster within grabbed my hand and pulled me to the floor. Raspberry kisses on both of our cheeks. As the door groans and creaks.

My ice cream has melted, upon my thighs. I can see it in the mirror that I wish would lie. Raspberry glistens on my lips. Bitter is which memories keep.

A New kind of update

Posted by Zeannaroux on

This week is not a good one. I feel just so alone. Like no one wants to talk to me. I think it is because people only seem to talk to me on their terms.

But I need that interaction. So I send them message after message until a point is reached where they feel like talking to me. I know that this isn’t the best. Creating random situations to be noticed isn’t ideal, but what else can I do? I was doing so well for a time but now I am empty.

All because no one talks to me. No one is interested in what I have to say.

I have no friends

No family

That bothers to check up on me.

The only people I speak to on a consistent basis is my kid and my therapist.

When others take the time to notice me. I lie

Tell them I am alright and that No, of course everything is ok. Everything is going well. I am not sick. I am not scared. I am not staying up at night wishing that it would be my last but to much of a coward to do anything. Nothing like that is happening.

Instead I tell them about all the great things. How sunny the sky is. How happy me and my daughter are. How I love her and she makes me smile. At no point do I tell them that I hide in my room and only interact with her cause I have to. Not because I am a good parent but because I am a parent. I feed her, bathe her, get her ready for school. I listen to her read and play. We watch videos and tell each other stories. Not because I want to, but because it is expected of me. Given a chance I would not be here.

They don’t care. None of them care.

They talk to me on their own time and the interactions never last long. I can send them a message, an email, but it all gets ignored. Phones calls are regulated to once a blue moon conversations. Only call when they need money.

I hate it here.

I made this blog so that I can share my stories but also so people can have a small glimpse into what it is like for those who have BPD. And well…this is it.

And I am sorry for that

I wonder

Posted by Zeannaroux on

“Do you regret it?”

“No, why should I?”

“Because you gave up!”

“No…I didn’t…”

“But you did! Had you listened to me-“

“What? Had I listened to you what!?”

“…We would be happy…a family.”

“No, we wouldn’t. We would be content. A mix of shame and regrets. We would have hated each other in the end”

“But-“

“And you wanna know what the worst part is?”

“…what? What could be worst than being a murderer?”

“That…that right there. We were never be fit to be more than friends. Yet you wished to make something out of what was not meant to be? Why? For such a little thing that we would both abandon. You despise me without reason and yet you scream about what ‘could have happened’ what ‘could have been’. When right now! Yes! Now! You hide behind a smirk. You want to be so woke yet you expect things. Grand things that bring about disorder. All because you felt as though a bundle of cell could bring us closer. “

“BUT OUR DAUGHTER”

“…”

“Or our son. Should have had fighting chance to become one”

“But you don’t want me”

“But…yes, still it would have been worth it since you already let me inside your dress. What a little bit more for both our sakes. Someone around to tie us to the stake. Sure we would burn and we may hate. But it would be worth it over this mistake. “

“So you would rather live in misery?”

“I rather IT live”

So I’ve gathered

Posted by Zeannaroux on

I dream of wicked things.

Spliced together with feathers of woe

I am told that this is not normal

But I gather clouded screams like candy

And wave them in my head

I know I am far from sane but

I doubt I am better off dead

I dream of such wicked things

Spilled with feathers of old

I am told I am nowhere near normal

But I gather clouded being that matter

And keep them in my head

I know that I am far from sane but

Such things only matter when you are dead