Suspended in a compromise.

We sent our gods away, many years gone by, because in our arrogance we felt no need for them any longer. We devoted our lives to a myriad of different sciences, to furthering what breakthroughs we've had to make us technological titans in medicine, machine, weapon, virus and creation. But with no gods, we had no compass. Now, me, I don't believe in gods, and that means I'm just a child of our world, raised with no reason to fear anything but my fellow man and what weapons that are wielded.

I believe we create our own gods and devils. How can I believe anything else? I feel a deep connection with the world around me and the people I encounter, moved to tears by things that other people don't even flinch at, marveling at the world around me. But I don't believe that there is a god in the way the religions I'm acquainted with paint. Just as I don't believe their picture of a devil. I believe in good an evil, I believe in cruelty and kindness, coldness and empathy. I believe we create our own gods and heavens, and our fears fashion us hells and devils. The angels and demons are the people we meet.

A friend, a kind person who is selfless, how is that not an angel of some sort? Human predators who torture and abuse others are as close to demons as anything I can imagine.

Maybe I'm putting too much thought into this. I've been told you can't analyze beliefs, you just basically close your eyes and pick a direction. But I don't believe that for a second, actually. I feel like you have to find something that calls to the core of your very being.

A Christmas or two ago a friend of mine gave me a tarot deck called the Faerie's Oracle and with it I have felt a connecting to an otherness that I only felt as a child, a deep sense of rightness.

After I was home this last time my mom informed me my Uncle Michael (passed away in '89) used to do tarot as well as had the same knack for it I seem to.

How can I not feel connected to this man who I met only in the first months of my life, too young to even remember his face? I don't believe there is a god linking us, I believe that somehow in the vast universe he shared some of his stardust with me, passing on a part of himself in the moment he first held me.

My mother tells me how very much he would have loved me, how we would have been inseparable, two odd little birds flocking together. Maybe the universe wanted to leave my mother a part of him, and since I was so young, so unformed I was receptive to what stardust he had to offer.

This is very, very tangential and I don't plan to revise or edit, as this is a place for me to just write and think and allow everything to flow out of me into a place where I can look back on it. Where I can experience my own thoughts again.

I'm a bit worked up because I had posted the first paragraph of this entry on facebook (I'd written it awhile ago and when I rediscovered it today it hit a note that I didn't want to ignore) and someone got very defensive about God as he believes him to be, and it just made me angry.

Why is his version any more credible or fulfilling than the one I choose to believe? Believe what you will, but do not force feed it to me. If you'd like to debate theoretically or something, I'm game, if you'd like to share your beliefs with me when I invite that sort of topic, by all means...But I do dislike this invasion into something that is, in essence, my space and the brash attitude he took.

I need to go eat something. I think my blood sugar is dropping and I'm just working myself up more.

Inking Wings

Dip your pen in this inkwell of my blood
Carefully draw out my life's moments
Press the silver edge of your pen deeper
Try to soak up my well, so wasteful.
Ink out my grievances carefully
Mix them with rain born of sorrow
Given birth from eyes lined in anguish
The pain, more then I can bear, is as deep as marrow
I'm dying without death
As we form the letters of my heartache.
I'm outlined in crimson ink,
Flowing through the depths of me
Mapping out my history
All the battles and victories, conquests and defeats
Every minute aspect etched indelibly into every atom of my existence.
I'm inking out the wings of an angel
Through every fragile layer of skin,
into the bone and all the way down
To the core of my soul.

Are we bound?

Scars build up on paper thin skin
Paper cuts that sting like hell
Bruises that have to explanation
Maybe you can see the reason for me to be this way
All I want is an end.
Better or worse.
Richer or poorer.
The love-vows only work if you're bound.
Maybe there is a reason.
Explain to me where I'm broken
What part is missing?
How did I survive with out?
I want your hands out to catch me
I need to feel your strength at my back
I feel the cold doubt seeping through my veins
Don't let words mean more then my body seeking yours.
Don't push me away.
Was I your worst mistake?
I don't make any sense to myself.
While you're out I'll pack my bags.
Slowly I'll run away and hide
How long will it take you to see
All that was, could have been, but will never be?
Out the door I do, don't wanna hurt us anymore
Am I gonna be another name on the list?
Another set of regrets?
Will you be another tear tracking down my cheek?
Another scar that mars my skin?
Do we mark each other after all?
Branded....but are we bound?

Failure is my middle name.

The horrible and the heavenly
Perfection in pleasure and pain
The ultimate destiny.
Endure and survive.
This life is shared by all,
The end is the beginning undone
Perhaps be fight a battle indefinitely un-won
This is the blackness
The joy of the dark
This is our reason
Our gods come to our hearts and mind
Wearing black, it's death, the bed unlaid.
Failure is our middle name
We lay in graves unmade, unmade.
Do you wonder how I stand on the edge
And fight the urge to jump?
Have you any idea how the thought haunts me?
I stand here, alone, at the edge of the world
Trying to see the sky, but seeing only nothingness.
Where is my starlit sky?
Moonless, stars too far away for the light to filter down
Nothing to show me my way home
No North Star to guide my skip
Just endless black.
My vices, my sins, the weakness
That hangs over my head
And I stand in fear
of it all falling down around me
I'm not dead, just falling into the grave marked for me
Maybe you can't see my end at the edge
of your presence
But you may decide my fate.

Quietly, quietly.

Defective soul-beats to the sound of tinkling as the heart breaks.

Questing for a salve to the terrors that rock your world, chilling the marrow of your bones.

The only magic I have is the magic in my blood, the sound of my heart and the flow of my love.

Loyalty to the agony that rattles the core as you close your eyes against the tears.

Sorrow that flows like a river to the ocean of your bottomless past.

Childlike wonder gives way to hate as the world slaughters your desire to dance.

So I do not dance anymore, and the lights go out. I see that smile fade and so do I.

Interconnected, delicately wound into the fabric of your existence, I burn out as you pale.

A nightmare turned reality. Will I never be allowed to wake up?

A writing.

I break my own heart, by allowing myself to hope. To believe in the goodness I want to exist within the core of each person I encounter.



I want you to be a good person, and because I want it to be true, I allow myself to be hurt. And I know, shame on me. For I should protect myself from you and your charm and your cruelty that hides beneath the surface. But I want to believe. I want so very much to believe.



I want to be a good, strong person. But sometimes my idea of what it means to be good can hurt people. Or hurt myself.



It's so painful.



I want to make sure I am always honest with you, about how I feel, who I am, and what I want. But sometimes honesty hurts, because it isn't what you want to hear. I understand that. But I don't want to be the liar that I could be. I don't want to lie the way I've been lied to. And I'm sorry that my truth isn't want you want to hear.



I hurt myself, in the process of trying to help others, because I want to heal the world in the way I have never been healed.



I know you think you're so badly off, that the world is out to get you, and that your life sucks so much. And I'm so sorry that you cannot see how blessed you are. Blessed in ways I have never been. I am so sorry that you are so lost in your desire to be pitied that you lose your chance to thrive in the joy of life. But I cannot keep draining myself to pick up your slack. Because I am so broken inside and you will never understand because you cannot live my life or experience my mind.



I give out all the light I have in my soul to brighten the paths of those I love, that I keep nothing for myself. And I am so exhausted, so lost in darkness and shadows.



I wish you could see yourself through my eyes, I wish you could feel the things you have done to me. I wish you could know the world the way I do. I wish you could feel the beat of my heart in your veins, I wish you could feel the thrum of my breath in your lungs. I wish you could feel the pulse of my life, my emotions, my loss and pain and sorrow down in the marrow of your bones. Because I know that if you could feel the depth of my life, the extent of my sorrow, and the keen edge of my loss then you wouldn't doubt my desire to be good. To be honest. To believe. Because if I do not fight for even ounce of sunlight in my life, I will be swallowed by my past.

When did we lose our humanity and revert to creatures of hell's 9th level?

There is so much whizzing through my head right now, so many emotions flying around with all the force of a hurricane. I have always known my emotions are a terrible force to be reckoned with, but sometimes I forget until they turn on me.

And they have.

My emotions are tearing me apart from the inside out. And it is so utterly painful. I am so hurt. I loathe this state of being. I utterly loathe it. And as a result I sort of hate myself for being such a frequent visitor to this state of mind. There isn't anything I can DO about it, so logically I shouldn't beat myself up over it. But there isn't anything logical or reasonable or rational about it.

The fact is I'm so full of disgust.

It came to my realization that while I've lived in Washington, the number of people in my life out here who haven't treated me like shit, or hurt me is painfully small. It is a horribly small number.

I am surrounded by horrible human beings.

I acknowledge that I myself am not a picture of goodness and sweetness and wonderful fluffy things.

But I can also state with certainty and no arrogance that I always, always TRY TO BE GOOD. I try to be kind, and forgiving, and patient, and considerate, and understanding. I try always to be loving, and loyal, and faithful, to defend those who are not there to defend themselves.

So why is it all these people are so fucking petty?

If me, the head case who is spending her time in therapy, the head case who is all but certifiably insane...why am I the only one who I see making these efforts?

You people! With your health, and stability, with your independence and your strength. With all these things you should cherish and you throw them around and turn it into a joke! You spend your time, wasting yourself in petty behavior! You have families and love and support and you spend your time telling lies, making fun of people who need tolerance and not your cruelty.

You're so....despicable. What me and mine fight to have you toss aside like rubbish and make yourself into something detestable. You're so caught up in yourselves and your drama, your cheating and your lust. Your lies and your inconsiderate behavior. Your hate and cruelty, your racism, sexism, your disgusting behavior.

I'm so sick of being surrounded by lies and broken promises, secrecy and all that rubbish treatment of your fellow humans.

I understand no one is perfect, but how hard is it to be humane, to be kind? What the fuck is wrong with being KIND?!

But that doesn't happen anymore.

Instead people are behaving like animals. Sex means nothing, bodies are used as cheap tools to get what you want and if you don't match up to their ideals you have people who mock you and talk down to you. Gender is used as a weapon, sexuality is a thing to be turned into a joke. Cruelty is the norm and kindness is out of date. People blame the victims and if they can justify something in their head then everyone else is wrong.

Never mind the feelings of other people, never mind the reality of the situation.

I'm deciding I like people less and less, and I wish to spend less and less time around them. No one keeps their promises anymore, no one cares about anyone other then themselves, and if you make the mistake to care or ask for help...you're screwed. You get taken advantage of.

More and more I'm not here, I'm going away into my dissociation. More and more I'm trusting people less and less. I don't want to be around people because I just can't handle it.

There is so littler tolerance, so little acceptance, so little care or love or kindness...and I just can't do it anymore.

I have my limits, I have only so much forgiveness for the same cruelty and I'm out.

I'm so ready to be done with people.

I have therapy tomorrow and I can't tell if I'm looking forward to it or dreading it.

New Years Words.

Here is to hoping this year we all learn to be a little bit more mature, a little bit kinder, and a little bit more patient.



Here is to all of us being a little less selfish and a little more selfless.



Here is to the year we learn to be thankful for what we have, and stop coveting that which we do not need.



Here is to my wish for a year filled with tolerance, acceptance, and equality.



This is my dearest wish, that we all of us can learn to be more honest, more faithful, more loyal and more loving.



My dream is for all of us to look into the future and make choices that will help us all, not hinder any single group.



Here is to friends being people you can depend on, family being people you look to be around, and loves that lift you up, not drag you down.



Here is to serenity for the soul, peace of mind, and joy for us all.



Here is to children being allowed to be children, adults being adults, and humans being humane in all their dealings with the world, other people, children and animals.



This last year has taught me to be thankful for all that have, from a place to live, people to share my life with, a family that I am being closer to in spirit, an a love that is growing ever stronger.

I have learned that it is good and healthful to set boundaries, and that it means only that I have matured to defend them. I have learned to be gracious in my dealings with people who have wronged me, I have learned to be more forgiving of those small slights that come from people's individual growth. I have learned to appreciate myself for all that I am, in all my glorious being.

I have learned to value myself and to demand that I be treated with respect by the people in my life, and how to stand up for myself when I am not given what I need. I have learned how to find respect for others that is true and honest and deeply rooted. I have learned to love my body, with all it's flaws and scars. I learned to love my mind, with all it's scars and flaws as well.





This year I hope to see a change in the world for the better.



So here is to you, to see you grow into a better version of yourself, here is to seeing you attain happiness and strength and honor.



Here is to the revival of the important parts of chivalry. To honor, and integrity, of justice and morality, of faith in humanity, and protecting those who cannot protect themselves. Here is to courtesy, and honesty, to loyalty and love, to laughter and sweetness, here is to everything that is good about this world and watching it prevail this year, and every year yet to come.



And here is to you helping change this world, yourself, and all that you touch for the better.



Here is to being the change we want to see in the world.

Cover my eyes, cover my ears...tell me these words are a lie.

My soul is dying. Inside that piece of me that I call my core, where everything that is me, the very essence of Ana, my soul is rotting to death. Its a slow, agonizing death. Filled with stabbing pain and bouts of aching numbness.

I hadn't even realized it, because with everything going on my heart has been shattered a thousand times over in just the last two months...I honestly couldn't tell one type of pain from the other.

But since I've stepped away from the source of my agony, I've realized that the sheer amount of disregard and neglect has damaged my soul beyond repair.

I often wonder if I am stronger or weaker for the weight I carry of my Borderline. I know that I spend each day locked in a battle, and who my enemy is changes with all the fluidity of the ocean, everything from myself, my illness, to the people who hurt me. But do these battles build up my strength, or drain away the power of my heart and soul?

Am I fading away, until all that will be left is a shade? A memory of a song that was my soul? Do I even remember the words to my song? Because when I think about it, I can't recall. Am I made of light and laughter or blood and tears? Am I weighed down by the cruelty that has been a constant companion, lurking ever in the shadows waiting to trip me up? Have I grown stronger?

I feel like I'm burning, and no one can feel the flames that are licking at my skin, slowly devouring me. I wonder if I actually try to scream, will anything come out? I'm starting to doubt that there is anything I can do to stave off the pain or the terror of my soul's death.

If things continue on in this pattern, soon I will be like a haunting. The lingering memory of a girl who had hopes and dreams, a heart full of love and a ready smile. And all that will remain is a wraith. A lie.

I'm dying and there isn't a damn thing I can do to stop it, because I'm too sad to give a fuck.

Love is an excuse to get hurt, I swear. I feel like just by believing in love I basically put myself out there and handed out the knives which I have then been stabbed in the back with.

I don't know if I'll ever trust people to love me again. I don't feel anything when people say it to me, and I respond only out of habit.

Because if you loved me, why would you lie to me? Hide things from me? Why would you choose someone's side over mine when I needed you? Why would you disregard my dignity, my human rights? Why would you look me in the eye and tell me that you love me while you're sharpening the knife to plunge in my back?

I trusted too easily, and I am now left with a shattered heart and a dying soul.

“Love can sometimes be magic. But magic can sometimes... just be an illusion.”

Recently my life has been in constant turmoil, and now is no different.

First off, Mat and I have ended our relationship, and all I can think of is this quote. "Love doesn't die a natural death. Love has to be killed, either by neglect or narcissism. Those guilty of these two crimes of the heart always hide behind excuses convenient; too ashamed, lacking in integrity and courage to face the truth. To them, it is always something other than their own actions, desires and self-importance that dictate circumstances. For these people, so blind to truth, true love can never be fully experienced for they have never really given of themselves all that they are."
(Frank Salvato)

I am not well. I'm brave enough to say this to you. I'm broken and I hurt. My heart has been ground to dust under the heel of a self-centered man.

Over the past four years I have been treated with insane amounts of contempt, I have been neglected, and even abused. My heart has been played with and discarded. My soul has been kicked aside and trampled.

My mother has compared me to a Xena episode, actually. And while part of me wanted to smile over the show reference, the image that it left in my mind was...poignant. The story was of the Goddess Aphrodite... There was a man, and every time he kissed her, he stole some of her godhood, and she got more and more pale, her light ever fading.

And that has been me. I am exhausted and weak, I am pale and ill. I am wasting away in a home where I am blamed for loving, where I am punished for my faith, and I am afraid to forgive.

Now, be aware that for all my anger, I do not hate nor do I want you to bad mouth Mat. I am angry because I have been wronged. I am angry because I have been hurt. But I have earned this anger, and while I know your hearts have bled for me, he is not a bad person. He is a person who is undeveloped. He hasn't learned how to be an adult, a man.

Of course, the results of this crisis have left me in absolute desolation. I am destroyed. I am not ashamed to admit I have cried myself to sleep, nor am I afraid to admit I haven't eaten in 72 hours because I have been so distressed that I get sicker trying to eat then not. I am aware that I have cried myself sick, and that this is cause for worry. But take heart in the fact that at least I'm not hiding it from you.

I have cut.

But I'm working now on coping in a healthier way. I have also chopped off 5 inches of my hair. Oh yes.

Thank god for Xanax, and for my plane ticket home. I'm so grateful for my friends, and my family.

And this situation has really started to show me who IS and who is NOT a true friend. There are those I can count on to tell me truth no matter how much it will hurt, no matter what the consequences. There are those I know will defend me, who have my back and are trying to offer me every bit of help they can. There are those whose hearts sing to mine while I try to relearn the song of my soul.

And then there are those who are cowards. Who will never again have my love or trust. There are those to whom I am kind because it is the GOOD thing to do, and I am going to be a good person.

Because really, I don't know if sins are ever forgiven. I don't know if I am so good that I can really BE good, but I will try. I will try to be good. Because even a stunted tree reaches towards the sun. And even I will yearn to forgive, to love and to be loved.

And it's hard right now. It's hard to believe that I am loved. And part of that is my Borderline. The already present fear of rejection, the distrust, the paranoia...They already reside in my mind...and while I keep them in check, the behavior that Mat has displayed...

Well, I'm not sure I can believe in love. But cruelty, that I have faith in. To quote Jacqueline Carey "When Love cast me out, it was Cruelty who took pity on me." And that...That cuts to the heart of my life. And that makes me feel like Alice. I feel as though I have lost my muchness. (Yes, I am making an ABSURD amount of references. Because I am on my Xanax and my brain is a little fuzzy from all the cry. So accept it.)

And I am afraid. I am so afraid. Because...Mat wants me to move out. My options are very limited. And none of them particularly ideal. If I can find my own housemate, good. If I cannot...then I would be put into a shelter or transitional housing. My mom will have none of this and would rather come get me then allow that to happen.

Mat has said 'we'll figure something out' because he doesn't want me to be in a shelter either. But...I don't see how we'll figure anything else. If we stay living in the same house I can only see a couple outcomes...Either we'll fall back into our old patterns, and be miserable. Or we'll try and heal and get over things and because of the intense stress of the situation it will become violent over time.

This isn't exactly something I want out of life. I want to be happy. I want to be loved. I want to be respected. I want loyalty, I want trust, I want to be able to trust. I want all the things that I believe in my heart are human RIGHTS.

And I do not believe I will get that.

I am very, very broken inside.

Rules from the life of a BPD girl

Yeah, I'm doing this. Because I'm thinkin' about things. (mind you, it's not OMG Rule #1 is most important...They're all of equal importance.)


Rule #1: Honesty is the best policy, however, that doesn't mean you need to spill all the aspects of your life. Sometimes for your own sake answer ONLY the minimum of the question asked of you. (Example: If you're asked "Do you know what time it is?" You answer yes, or no. Not what the actual time is.)
(A note: Do not use this rule as an excuse to HIDE things. If you are asked a question, answer it. If someone indicates they need the whole truth, no reservations then respect them enough to DO so.)


Rule #2: Protect yourself. Be a good person, be kind, be generous, but do not drain yourself on the behalf of someone if you don't have to. Especially if they do not deserve it. Sometimes, it is needed, and there are people who deserve it. Be unstinting in your goodness.


Rule #3: Trust MUST be earned. If you have earned the trust of someone else and they do nothing to earn yours, they never will. Trust should be mutual.


Rule #4: Respect is like trust. If you're not giving, do not expect to get it. UNLESS you have been respectful and they do not respect you. That is when you may ask for proof of respect before returning it.


Rule #5: If you've been taken for granted, don't fight. Just walk out. No words, nothing. Just leave. Because your words won't matter.


Rule #6: Past actions ARE the best indicator for future behavior.


Rule #7: Trust your instincts. If they say you're being lied to, you probably are.


Rule #8: Do harm to none. But do not let them harm you either.


Rule #9: A contingency plan is a good thing to have. If you don't have one already for the major aspects of your life, start planning.

Rule #10: Speak your mind. But use tact. Being a jerk will get you nowhere, and if it DOES, then you should reconsider the people in your life.

Rule #11: NEVER let someone treat you like you're inferior. If they feel the need to do so, show them the error of their ways. If they don't listen, remove them from your life.

Rule #12: Set your boundaries. Guard them. Do not let anyone breach them.

Rule #13: Bottle your emotions and you will regret it. It will take a toil on your mind, body, and soul. And eventually it will become too much and you WILL explode. When you do, it will be ugly. Try to avoid such a situation.

Rule #14: Never hide an injury...even the ones no one can see. Especially the ones that are unseen.

Rule #15: If you are lying, expect to be lied to.

Rule #16: Always expect the worst, that way no matter what happens you'll be prepared.

Rule #17: People will be cruel. If you start to believe them, find a professional and trust them to tell you the truth, or go to the people who love you, they won't lie to you or for you. Because people are cruel for more reasons then there are life under the sun.

Rule #18: Be strong enough to support yourself. You will never be 'completed' by another person. Work every day to LOVE and ACCEPT yourself.

Rule #19: Your friends should be of the HIGHEST caliber. You will be judged by the people you call your friends. If you surround yourself by people as smart, and smarter then you, you will always be learning.

Rule #20: Always be willing to try things that will heal, or better you.

Rule #21: Embrace your responsibilities. Find joy in all aspects of your life.

Rule #22: Never abandon someone. Hold yourself to honor and integrity, bring courage into your life in all aspects.

Rule #23: Find healthy ways to release your anger, your rage, your sorrow, your fear, your pain.

Rule #24: If you betray someone, expect the worst karma. You will never be trusted again.

Rule #25: If you can't share the spotlight, then be ready to be alone...

Rule #26: To not bend is to break. To not meet half way is to say you're better then other. To say that is to be a bastard. You then deserve to get punched.

Rule #27: The world is violent, humans are violent. To pretend to be totally civilized is to deny the most primitive part of us. But to do violence to another is the epitome of wrong.

Rule #28: Do not be afraid, or too proud, to ask for help.

Rule #29: Family comes first. Love comes first. To balance these things is hard, but you must do so.

Rule #30: Demand happiness. Do not settle for less.

Rule #31: EXPRESS YOURSELF. Be who you are.

Rule #32: Always have goals. Make plans, don't just dream. But dream. Dream big.

Rule #33: Lean about yourself. Learn about the people in your life. If that means research, then do so. Go the distance.

Rule #34: When you LISTEN, listen with your soul as well. When you SPEAK, speak with your whole body. When you LOVE, love completely.

Rule #35: Find beauty everywhere. Because there is so much ugliness and there is so much cruelty and it could break you if you let it. So find beauty, surround yourself with it.

Rule #36: Love. LOVE! Love love love. Love unconditionally.

Rule #37: Cultivate patience! It is indispensable.

Rule #38: Acceptance and tolerance. Accept yourself, accept those around you. That which you do not agree with tolerate. Obviously this has boundaries. Do not accept or tolerate abuse, neglect, murder, things that are WRONG. Those you should NOT accept. I state this so as not to be used as an excuse.

Rule #39: Man up to your mistakes. Own your faults, own your weaknesses, know yourself and don't back down from the truth. If you mess up, admit it, apologize, work not to do it again.

Rule #40: If the people in your life do not love and accept and support you when you're at your worst in life, they don't deserve you at your best. This is the absolute truth.



That is all for now. As I discover more, I will add them.

Of all the things I miss the most, I miss the ability to run away

Of all the things in the world I wish I had, I wish I had the ability to walk away and not look back. To leave without pain. To cut ties and feel no remorse.

Aside from that I wish I had a shoulder to cry on, an arm to support me, an ear to listen, and the reassurance, that I am safe.

The Borderline is so hard to manage alone. And that is the worst thing. For all that I fear abandonment, it doesn't matter because I already am alone. I am alone in a way that no one else I know is.

Often I feel isolated, unwanted, alone. I feel lost, and unappreciated and hurt.

And how not? How am I supposed to feel when people forget, or don't care or just allow me to face this alone? How does one fight an army when they are a single person? I know we're supposed to face our demons and fight them, but do we have to do it alone?


My words are stolen from me, my feelings are not validated, my needs are not met. (Please take me away from here.)

I don't want to be this person anymore. I'd like to fall asleep and never wake up. I wish I could change. I wish I had the courage to be anyone other then who I am.

Grant me one wish, and let me forget everyone I've ever known. Let me step into the shoes of someone else.

Because I have faith. In those precious few who have never broken my heart, or shattered my soul. I have faith that they'd always find me. Because they can hear my pack song, and they will always respond. But I'm broken, and my pack song is lonely now. I'm drained of all my color, all the life is bleeding out of me in solitary tears.

I don't care if people think this is just the Borderline. The worst part of BPD is that we tend to attract some of the shittiest people into our lives. We attract the users and abusers and the skeezy jerks who take advantage of a good thing and drain it until it has no choice but to be tainted.

And that's me, now. I'm so drained, my defenses are so low that I don't have a choice anymore. I'm becoming cruel inside, the bitterness is like a decay.

"Love doesn't die a natural death. Love has to be killed, either by neglect or narcissism. Those guilty of these two crimes of the heart always hide behind excuses convenient; too ashamed, lacking in integrity and courage to face the truth. To them, it is always something other than their own actions, desires and self-importance that dictate circumstances. For these people, so blind to truth, true love can never be fully experienced for they have never really given of themselves all that they are."

I know there is at least one person who would say this pertains to me as well...But I know in my heart of hearts, and in the haven of those who do love me, who love me too well to lie to me to pad my ego...that I'm not guilty of this crime.

My crime is that I am insane. I do the same thing over and over again, praying for different results, and being broken when they don't come to be.

So here I am, trying to open my eyes and gather the courage to do what I need to do, no matter the consequences.

And what more needs to be said?

Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn't it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up all these defenses, you build up a whole suit of armor, so that nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life...You give them a piece of you. They didn't ask for it. They did something dumb one day, like kiss you or smile at you, and then your life isn't your own anymore. Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness, so simple a phrase like 'maybe we should be just friends' turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart. It hurts. Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind. It's a soul-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain. I hate love.
-Neil Gaiman.

“Anyone can give up, it's the easiest thing in the world to do. But to hold it together when everyone else would understand if you fell apart, that's true strength.”

Borderline Personality Disorder Awareness

Oh the irony. So May is BPD awareness month. May is also my birth month. I do have some tiny amusement over this.

Anyway, right now I'm working on getting people in my life to help me end the stigma. I'm trying to figure out who all will buy a bracelet, and then once everyone numbers in, I'm going to order bracelets.

I can't find premade ones anywhere anymore, so now I'm going to do it myself.

After all, this is my life. I don't really have a choice in it and I know it's had a negative impact on the people in my life. So maybe if we can all raise awareness then perhaps we can end the stigma, end the fear, and bring about more healing.

Education, I think, is the best way to spread compassion and understanding.

How can I expect people to know and understand me and my issues if I don't do the work to get it out there?

I guess that is my biggest thing. No one is going to know what's what if I don't get the tools for them to learn.

I mean, sure, in an ideal world if you hear someone you love has an issue you'd go out and learn everything you can and become the biggest advocate EVER.

But I'm not an idealist. I know better. I know people have their own issues as well. So if I want them to know, to understand, then I gotta give them the building blocks to do something about it.

So here I am.

Working on those building blocks, working on spreading understanding, compassion, knowledge and ending the stigma.

I want the next girl or boy like me to not have to explain to everyone what BPD is, I want therapists to not be afraid of revealing the diagnosis, I want BPD to have the same reach as Bipolar. So that when a BPDer gets into a relationship and admits to their illness, they don't have to deal with the same shame and humiliation I had to when the only reaction I got was a blank face.

I want there to at least be a passing recognition.

Because this isn't going away.

We have to do something about it.

So here I am...and I hope you'll be here with me too.

Paralysis in the face of crisis

My life is currently filled to the brim with doctor visits and appointments and paranoia and the occasional urge to beat my head against the wall. Of course, more frequently I'd rather beat other people's head through walls. I'm not actually a masochist after all.

I have the strangest flare ups in my stupid Borderline.

And I do mean strangest.

Like today, I wanted nothing more then to stay at home all day, hidden away from the world so I could just learn to breathe again.

After all, some days I just forget how to function. Today was one of those days. I call them 'reset' days. Because I take the time to just do little nothings that allow me a sort of meditation because I'm busy while I focus on my breathing. It's actually very calming. (You should try it some time.)

I'm very paranoid right now. I'm not sure if it's my intuition ringing a bell, or if I'm just very seriously paranoid. Sometimes it takes me a few days to tell me which is which.

In fact, I'm not sure if my intuition is related to my BPD. Because I have an UNCANNY ability to have dreams or nigglings in my mind when something isn't right with someone in my life. When someone is lying to me, or has...intentions that are less then stellar or fair for me.

But occasionally it's just the BPD paranoia. Sometimes it's just me not trusting people. Often, I don't trust people that aren't counted among my closest friends. Of course, I've never been given a real reason to trust humanity.

Why should I?

They have mocked me, they have terrorized me, they have abused me, beaten me down. They have slandered my name, and shown me an encompassing amount of disrespect. So to be fair, my paranoia isn't entirely based in fancy.

And to be fair the more time I spend contemplating what's going on in my life, the more I realize that I've almost always had reason to be paranoid.

I've reacted harshly, to be sure. But not always because I was wrong, sometimes it was simply because the emotions were a suckerpunch.

Sometimes, as a Borderliner, if I'm expecting the emotions I can do soemthiing about it. But if I'm taken by surprise, if I'm slapped in the face, so to speak, I can't get a hand on the reins of my emotions.

I think of them, sometimes, as a living thing. Something that is part of me, but still separate because I can't always control them.

And I know, I've heard it a million times: OF COURSE YOU CAN CONTROL YOUR EMOTIONS! :D

....No.

That's the thing!

"Borderline individuals are the psychological equivalent of third-degree-burn patients. They simply have, so to speak, no emotional skin. Even the slightest touch or movement can create immense suffering."

So my psyche has third degree burns. I have no emotional skin. No protection.

The slightest bump, the tiniest jostling is the equivalent of stabbing someone emotionally.

How the hell do I control that, when it hurts so bad, and all I can do is lash out because it's the only logical (yeah you heard me, logical) reaction to that sort of pain.

It's not fair. Not to you, not to me. Not to anyone. It's not fair to me that you can hurt me with the littlest upset. It's not fair to you that when it hurts me, I lash out. It's a painful process, and one that I try so hard to keep control over.

Just please, understand me.

I don't ask to be pardoned- just forgiven. I don't ask to be right- just understood. I don't ask to be loved- just respected. I don't ask to be coddled- just for some care in your handling of me. I don't ask to be protected- just to have a safety net.

A link.

Here you go. A link about multiplicity.

Mind you: Everyone is singular and different and so this is just...well, it's a layman's guide.

http://www.karitas.net/blackbirds/layman/whatis.html

Please read it.

Creature, creature that I see, you live too deep inside of me.

So recently I had another Borderline rage attack. It used to be that it would happen monthly, and now it's generally a yearly event. The fact that I've got this much more control then I used to, it's comforting.

Of course, the rage always throws me off for a while. It's weird. It's like having this feral creature that resides so deep in me that most of the time the only that gets out is a little snappy behavior, the occasional bitchy moment. Things like that. But when I lose control, when that rage takes over its almost like being possessed.

It cannot be stopped, it cannot be controlled, it cannot be changed, or derailed. It will overtake me and it will turn me into a totally different person. And it's so exhausting.

I screamed, kicked, clawed, twisted and turned and wailed. I bit and spat and hissed. I threatened and cursed, and growled. I fought like an animal caged. I was vicious and cruel.

And there is a small part of me that is so very relieved when it happened. Because my temper keeps me more cautious then I probably should be. It's a treacherous line to toe. Because if I allow the beast to reach out when it chooses, in small doses, I'm not sure that it won't gain too much strength for me to handle.

So instead I keep it bound, and when it lashes out, it is not the way it used to be. I remember now, bits and pieces of my rage, where before I remembered nothing. I can articulate what I need now, when before I could only scream.

Each day is a small, quiet battle that no one even sees. It's a vicious, brutal battle. It's waged deep in my mind, heart, and soul. So under the surface of my skin, there is a battle of epic proportions. And no one gets to see it, except me.

So here I am, battling a force of nature deep within my core. Something that is probably a thousand times stronger then I am. The fact that I'm still hanging on surprises the hell out of me.

I survive on the tiny victories. The little things. Not screaming when I want to, not throwing a punch every time I get mad, not demanding blood for my tears. It's the little tiny things that matter to me. The tiny little victories.

I wish I could convey to you how much it takes, how much I need those moments, and how terribly hurt I get when people take those away from me.

The only thing between you and me is the wall I jealously guard

The last couple of days have been a curious series of events. And I'm not sure how to feel about any of it. Actually, that isn't even true. I know how I felt.

I've been swinging violently from the highest of highs, to the most absurd rages. Just total anger for no real reason. There isn't a real reason for it, things are actually going fairly well in my life.

I've recently hooked up with an old childhood friend, Mat and I have been arguing very little, I've been doing people's hair, I've been out and active fairly regularly.

But maybe this is the problem. Maybe it's that I've stepped too far away from where I'm used to residing.

I was going to make today's blog entry about makeup and clothes. About the different masks and armor I have worn to protect me from the people who surround me. And I think I'll touch on that.

So here's the thing...I've always been different. I've been everything from a drama queen to a quiet lurker. And in school I had a very small group of people who stuck by my side, for the most part I was disliked, treated with disdain. Treated like a carrier of the plague. I've always been different and awkward. For many reasons.

First of all, in my childhood my family were Jehovah's Witnesses. And let me tell you, being raised in the equivalent of a cult (especially in a small town in the Midwest) is one hell of a way to turn a kid into an outcast.

But on top of that, I'd been home-schooled until I was of 5th grade age, but stayed behind a year because I just didn't get everything, and my social skills were lacking.

And the crowning sign that screamed 'DIFFERENT!' was that I behaved differently, I expressed myself differently.

My teenage years were hell. Picked on, teased, bullied, attacked, ostracized, and spoken down to... Ignored, unwanted. You bet.

I wasn't ever asked to go to parties, go to dances, or even to dance when I went. I wasn't asked out by people. The few boyfriends I had between middle school were guys I asked out, and its an embarrassingly small number.

So, when the actual outcast thing started to kick in, I suited up every day in my 'armor'. First it was the goth clothing.

A slouchy looking set of bondage pants (almost always in black), some sassy, dark t-shirt (occasionally a tank top or long sleeve), huge hoodies, and either massive boots or skater shoes. To be fair, occasionally I woke massive, angry looking boy-styled bondage pants too. Always full of chains and straps.

Then I discovered the jewelery. Angry looking leather bracelets, rings on multiple fingers, chokers and chunky necklaces.

My hair was dyed every color under the sun, each other more outrageous then the last. And I almost always wore it down, unless my depression got so bad that I let my hygiene slipped and I was gross. Then it was yay pony tail.

When I wore makeup it was either elaborate and uncanny looking, or it was smudged darkness around my eyes, and a pale glow to my skin, with too dark lips.

With my headphones on my head and a dark backpack low on my back, a sullen and almost violent look brewing on my features, and an angry gait you've got me in highschool.

I wasn't happy, I was bullied and treated like shit. But I lashed back out at the people who called me names. For every time I was called I freak, I yelled out that they were sheep. For every time I was called a bitch, I sneered out that they were pathetic. They'd get in my face, and I'd get right back in theirs. I wasn't gonna take it laying down, after all. Plus, it was a good way to take out some anger.

I recall in my freshman year, some senior got right into my face and called me something. I didn't hear it, but I heard the tone, the one they used for every time I got called bitch, slut, freak, fat, ugly, stupid, cunt, whore... And I stepped toe to toe with him, and told him, in no uncertain terms, that his life meant nothing to me, and if he died a horrific death, I wouldn't even laugh because he was worth so little to me, I doubt I'd acknowledge his demise. His face drained of blood. And I walked away.

But under all that anger at their treatment, I believed them. And that was why I was so angry, why I'm still angry. Because I can't look at my body and not feel let down, and even disgusted. I am frequently heard saying that I'm better looking with my clothes on.

After those years, I believed I was ugly, fat, stupid, unwanted, horrible, and even that I was a tease.

And this isn't okay. Because to be totally honest, there is very little that can convince me otherwise. On my best days, when I see myself all I think is, "Well, I'm not ugly."

Here's a Youtube Vid I found...I think it's very powerful. It brought me to tears when I watched it because...I got it.


But now...

Time to SWITCH directions!

So even though things have been going well, there have been a number of anger outbursts, and I'm so exhausted.

See here's the thing...when I have a bad spell, though it sucks, it's actually fairly mellow...I've got a long period of time when I feel like shit and I hate life...but it's consistent.

When life is good, I have more anger outbursts, and I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop, so when it does...I'm devastated.

I'm so fucking tired. So tired and just wrung out that I almost cut today. For the first time in AGES....

I'm holding it off. Hopefully I can until the desire passes, or until something distracts me, but here I am. Another fucking battle.

And even though tonight I will fall asleep, I'll wake up to the same fucking battle tomorrow.

I'm so tired.

I should go try to sleep. It's like 3 in the morning.

I don't feel like I'm strong enough...

I went in the other day to get my tattoo...It's a Celtic tree of life that looks like a cross between a tree and a pendant. Of course, it's all grayscale. But the words "Love As Thou Wilt" are around the top of it. It's painfully lovely to my eyes, and to the eyes of those who know me, and understand what it means.

The tree of life, over where my heart resides to remind me that all the shit I've been through strengthens my roots, allowing me to reach towards the sun, and the sun which I bask in continues to allow me to sink strong roots, and I continue to grow. And it never ends. Because, "Even a stunted tree reaches for sunlight." as Prince Imriel de la Courcel‎ was able to discover in Kusheil's Scion (By Jacqueline Carey)

And that's me. I may be stunted from the terrible events that litter my life, from the personality disorder that makes my world terrifying and exhausting but I continue to reach for the sun.


The three hours I spent under the tattoo needles were a little bit of a benediction. This symbol that I now wear upon my skin that proclaim the horror of my childhood, the strength that I now possess, the delicate shoots of growth that I continue to put out, it all speaks to the need I have to remember that life never ends, and I am going to be part of the change.

The words Love As Thou Wilt were actually the least painful part of the process, and I found a bit of humor in that. That's the one part where I've never had trouble...Loving freely, as I find best, loving without fear. I've never been afraid of who my heart draws me to, be it a friend or a lover.


The sort of pain that came from the tattoo was actually very similar to that which I'd experience when I used to cut. It had that same sort of relaxing release. It took all the bundled nerves and anxious tension I had wound up inside me from weeks of just living my life and it let it seep out into the air around me.

I think, if it were not quite so expensive, I'd be in for tattoos all the time. Because everything I'd get would be punctuation for my life, and full of meaning. And the process is a massive release.

That which yields is not always weak.

There exists a series of books, by Jacqueline Carey, that speak to me very deeply. And I think that a number of aspects would speak to all of us who live with Borderline Personality Disorder. I also think it would speak to most all of humanity, on some level or another.

Those who know me know that I have a great capacity for love. They also know that I am capable of great forgiveness. I feel as if they go hand in hand. I feel like you can't have one without the other.

In the Kushiel's Legacy series the main characters are often those who are capable of great emotions. Great love, deep hate, huge forgiveness, massive heroism. Which, if you've ever known a Borderliner, is often the case in my life. Because we can't moderate our emotions, we live from one nerve sizzling intense emotion to the next. Flipping swiftly from adoration to loathing almost effortlessly, and in an impossibly short amount of time.

"When Love cast me out, it was Cruelty who took pity upon me" - Phèdre nó Delaunay (Kushiel's Dart)

Isn't that just the case of it all, for us? To feel cast out by all that is good, and for cruelty itself to have taken you in? To find a sort of pleasure in the pain we inflict on ourselves, on the pain inflicted upon us by others. We become pain-bearers. Capable of bearing the excess pain of the world, and offering up forgiveness unconditionally.

The sacred precept of these books, the foundation of the entire tapestry is so simple, so elegant, so very, very hard. "Love as thou wilt."

When I read that line for the first time, my heart chords were plucked into life. Yes. That is the mantra of my life. Love.

And even still these books said the things that lived in my heart that I could not put words to.

"Let the warriors clamor after gods of blood and thunder; love is hard, harder than steel and thrice as cruel. "

If war and conflict were to walk away from me, I would smile. If love were to leave, I would be felled.

And now the quote that shook my foundation to the bits.

"We are all these things [...]. Pride, desire, compassion, cleverness, belligerence, fruitfulness, loyalty...and guilt. But above it all stands love. And if we desire to be more than human, that is the star by which we must set our sights. "

These emotions control our lives, and for those of us with borderline, it's even more complex, more intense. We cannot cut these emotions away from ourselves, because we *ARE* these emotions. I am a creature of emotion, flighty, whimsical, child-like.

But love. That is so hard for us to bear.

If I can guide myself by the star of love then I am less lost to the maelstrom of my emotions.

This is how I choose to deal with my disorder.

Because though I bend, though I may yield, I do not break, and I am not weak.