A heavy nightmare

I wanted to be someone. I think about that daily.

I wanted to be someone and yet I sit. I became nothing. I am not helpless, nor hopeless, nor lost. I am not broken from the wasted pages surrounding the computer desk. I am merely something that became nothing. A person less blob of what could have been.

I am still capable of many things. I can still write my way into a heap. Carefully singing old hymns of what once was. A dream instead of a dark memory. I am here cutting away and pasting little hopes I once held for myself. I make the patterns on my skin.

I truly did want to be someone but I don’t actually remember what that someone is.

Another Update cause I can

Welcome to the musing of an extremely petty poet.

I have had a lot of new followers and am actually starting to get a lot of repeats as well. Still not a lot of comments but I am ok with that. Just wanted to let everyone know, if you all haven’t noticed already, I am a terrible speller. And *spoiler alert* my grammar is even worse. So feel free to judge to your hearts content lol. I have had some people tell me that it is ok but it is something I struggle with and want to work on. I do not do it before I post my work but when I go back I like to edit a few things here and there. Change up a line or two to help it flow better. But if you see some mistake that doesn’t look intentional just comment and let me know. I will not get upset…ok I will get upset if said person only commenter just to tell me what I am doing wrong.

I am a single mom who struggles with BPD. I made this blog first to hone my writing skills but later on I wanted to show what it was like to live with a mental disorder. My poems and little story tell about my life and that of my daughter. Sometimes I can be angry, happy, sad, depression, excited and even, you guessed it, petty. I enjoy each and every person who takes the time to like and read my work. There is not a lot of information out there that paints people with BPD in a neutral light. Most information seeks to vilify us. Well I am here to tell ya that we are just as human as you are. We make mistakes and successes. My poems go a long way into proving that. Because some of my pieces are downright holy while others sound like the musing of a very edgy teen going through puberty. You get no in between with me really 🤣.

So I thank you and say welcome to all the new faces. I am sorry for the mess and look forward to learning from you all.

My head

I feel empty.

Not that isn’t right. I feel something but not the normal kind. As though my spirit is breaking, shattering, quaking in my body to the sounds of a dying heart.

I can feel it leaving.

Every breath I make wheezing and squeezing in my chest. My lungs crushed between broken bones and a dark place.

I can’t take it

Yet I am here faking, smiling, lying to the people I love. Waving from the side lines using pride to hide what I feel inside. Bursting from the seams I am coming undone

But here I am.

I don’t want to be but I am and I don’t know how to stop, let go, be free. I do not know how to me. The normal me. The real me. The thing that I can help but dream.

And it is to late

I want to give up but here I am. Decaying flesh and hopeless despair. Melting toa darken state. Smiling with out a care to hide my mistake.

How to pass

Midterm season is upon us! As my peers and I wallow in self doubt and loathing for our teachers, let us gather around and try to think of the good in life.

Did I mention I failed my first midterm test?

Yep, I, lover of all things psycho, failed my psychology midterm.

Yet I managed to pass my philosophy test. You know, the class that walks hand in hand with each other as all fated minds to.

Question!

How the FREAK did I manage to fail one yet pass the other when they had virtually the same questions.

I am just baffled by the fact that I royally screwed up on one but managed to conjure up an A with the other. A solid 97% people….97%

Someone explain this!

Ok ok but this post talks about how to pass. Not how to fail so epically that one questions the very reason they breathe.

I would like to point out that I am still passing psychology but only with a B. It was lower after the test but I forgot how low it got and just brought it up to a B. I think it was a low C for a few days.

So how did I manage to pass you didn’t ask??

Well the honest answer is…I have no clue. The B.S answer, and this is the one I am sticking to if family and friends ask, is that I studied my ass off everyday. I asked questioned when need and didn’t use the sources found on Wikipedia pages *chokes on obvious lies* .

Now that spring break is upon us, or ending for some of you, let us go back to our roots of total disinterest in our futures because our caretakers pretty much did everything for. Go out in the world and adult the hardest you have ever adulted before but never lose focus on the fact we all suck before we die. So try your hardest to do all the things.

A/N this is a Petty Poet Verse Advise. Please ignore the rantings of this obvious lunatic and remember that you are valued and loved. Your grades do not define who you truly are as a person. Be proud of who you are and all that you accomplish. Sure you may not always get the grade you want but you still matter. You are still important and no matter what you will make it through this.

From the words of a petty person to the next. You are worth it.

In sickness and in health

Warning :self harm, suicidal ideation, bulimia, anorexia, mental disorders.

I got sick today. Like really sick.

And I know what you are thinking, why the hell did I just tell you about my five min date with the butt throne.

Well my dear people I am telling you this because it made me feel good.

Yes as I sat there puking my guts out all I could think of was

‘This isn’t so bad at all. A few months of this and I can finally be pretty’

Even know I sit here trying to make more come up because I want to lose this weight. I want to be skinny because to me that equals beauty. Now I do not hold this standard to everyone. People can be beautiful no matter what their size may be but I can’t. I will never be beautiful. I will never be someone who people want to give seconds looks. I am barely someone they want to see at the corner of their eye.

Not to say I believe me to be disgusting but I do find myself to be distasteful…borderline disgusting.

I hate myself so much that for a mins while getting sick I wanted to keep doing it. I wanted it all to go away. I kept thinking about all the disgusting foods I can shove down my throat just to have a reason to puke.

So I can be skinny

So I can be beautiful.

I will like to make a point to say that I also have the flu or a cold..whatever sickness this is I have it.

So I did not set out for today to puke up my delicious chicken tortilla soup with extra sour cream combined with a to die foe root beer float. I would have actually liked to have been able to digest that, thank you very much.

But once it happened, I felt relief. I felt alive.

This reminded me of something though. It reminded me of my addiction to cutting.

Both of these cause me great pain but in the end they bring me the greatest pleasure.

Through the pain I know that I am alive. I feel powerful. I feel beautiful. I feel as though I can finally see the light. Do you know how addicting it can be to have all that when your normal is constant darkness and paranoia. To finally have some clarity.

I can see the colors!

All the pretty pretty colors.

Sadly,

I know how destructive this can be. I know what it looks like for someone to starve themselves to lose weight. I know what it looks like for someone to accidently kill themselves.

I know the end result of my addiction.

So I don’t follow through with my temptations. No matter how much my mind tells me that I need to.

Instead I wait with anticipation for the next I cut or burn my skin by accident. I await that moment when I can spend hours in the bathroom due to some illness.

I no longer inflict these wounds on myself.

Instead I wait for someone else to do it for me.

All praise mother Gaia and karma.

May they serve me the pain I need to stay alive.

Untitled cause I do not care

I lost someone today and yet the first thing to be said is how lucky they are.

To god…they are with god and jesus.

Yay amen.

How lucky they are.

Call me selfish but that doesn’t make me happy. That doesn’t change  fact that they are gone and I never got to say good. That I didn’t even know that they where sick in the first place. Instead they are dead and you are telling me to be happy. To be proud that they get to see how savior. 

I am not.

Not instead I am not sad, I am fucking pissed. I am pissed that you and others believe I need to be happy they are gone. I am pissed that I am suppose to hold pride in my heart instead of sadness. 

In the end you got your wish. I am so angry, so very beyound angry actually. I do not want to see people. I do not want to see smiles or tears of joy. I want only the best pain for everyone. The best sort of pain because I can not stand to see so much calm around me. I want to destroy all that is beautiful. 
 Aside from this feeling of liquid leaking from my chest, I can’t feel anymore. I want to watch the world burn and I do not care if I burn with it. 

………
In time I will feel ok but the sprial is taking hold off me. How could they expect me to be happy. I say I am angry but really I am numb…I think. I think I am numb… 

A to Z Challenge

A to Z link to the page

Ahh it’s beinging to look like a chal-lenge!

A2Z-BADGE-150 [2017]

Da bannah

I am proud to say I will be doing this challenge again this year. The theme this year will probably come to me halfway through the month lol. Some stuff is prewritten but for the most part I wanted to write it as I went along. For some odd reason I like scrambling around in a panic trying to figure out what to write. I like a good ole fashion punishment.

It will remain a blog for a more mature audience and I have changed my setting. There will be a CW before pretty much every post as a just in case. Feel free to message anything and everything. I love feedback!

I look forward to this month long adventure with everyone.

 

Desperation

~Hate me for things I can not change

I give you premission

Only you 

Can you image the trauma you could put me through??? ~

CW abuse

What is it like to be abused by someone you love? By someone you hate?  I think many people could answer that question whole others can merely guess.

Would anyone even want to think about it. Surely no one does but that would be lying. There are those out there who crave pain.  No not the pain of someone who loves them but from those who feel the opposite. 

They crave the bruises of someone who can help them feel alive. 

Others can try to help them but what if they don’t want the help.

They are judged and hated without others knowing that it is those reactions that they want. 

So what do we do?

At last

Ok this is it. No more games!!!

I am finally going to tackle some of my goals. Starting with reading my already published poems a lot and posting them to YouTube as well as submitting some stuff to a few places. I do not have enough for a book but even just being features in a magazine would be nice.

 

 

I WILL DO THIS…..

 

 

Wish me luck!