eventually, it caught up to me.
"i can imitate at any cost, but i can't ride it till the wheels fall off."
it’s been awhile.
productivity, writing, and creating move in waves for me. there are some periods of time when i have so much to say, and periods of time when i feel stuck somewhere inside of myself. my relationship to my art is a lot like my relationship to my mental health.
the last post i tried to write was a glossy sum-up of my own experience as someone with mental illness. like most things, i try to wrap everything up in a bow. i even received praise for this in the context of my poetry, because i’ve never struggled to find a closing line. for me, it’s often about connecting the beginning and the middle that become blurry.
the reality is, that even as i enter 2023, i’m still figuring out how to do just that. connect the dots, and navigate what it looks like to cope in this season. particularly because i didn’t grow up with anyone who taught me how. i’m in the process of finding the right therapist, working with a psychiatrist regarding medication management, and accepting my BPD (borderline personality disorder) diagnosis.
i’ve known all my life that i was different. not in a, i’m-not-like-other-girls way, (though i did go through that phase!) but that after i experienced some severe childhood trauma - it changed the way i felt about existing and my relationship to others. as a queer person growing up in a non-affirming religious household, i always felt lost. like, this would be so much easier if these weren’t my parents, if this wasn’t my life. plot twist: they are, and it is.
borderline personality disorder is often misdiagnosed and misunderstood. common misconceptions: bpd is not the same thing as bipolar disorder, it doesn’t mean i have multiple personalities, and depictions of bpd in the media are often deeply unflattering. think that weird musical on netflix, ‘crazy ex girlfriend’ or even winona ryder in ‘girl interrupted.’ almost all of these characters are women, and almost all of them seem to have zero control over their lives and emotions. so what is bpd, really? if you look it up on google, it’s categorized as “a personality disorder characterized by severe mood swings, impulsive behavior, and difficulty forming stable personal relationships.” but if you look at my life, you’ll see a history of severed ties, volatility, and arguments that i’ve started and almost always finished.
there’s this space i live in a lot that feels like exposing a soft underbelly of a newborn animal. where i’m so sad and i don’t know why. and by that point, i’ve decided that the people i love no longer love me. and i have to choose whether or not i’m going to act on this feeling. whether i’m going to blow everything i’ve built apart. i don’t answer my texts, and if i do, i undoubtedly hurt someone’s feelings. i’ll write narratives about myself and how people feel about me. i steam with unshakable anger. and then - after a few hours, there’s a shift. this high where i feel like i can do anything. like i could exist in that moment forever, because i feel so good. everyone loves me, my favorite people adore me, and there’s no way i need my meds. i’m double texting, sometimes triple texting, posting about everything. but that inevitably fades. and i go back to square one.
putting a name to these patterns and lack of stability has helped, but it’s also the death of pretending that the way i’ve moved through the world is healthy or baseline. it means treating symptoms that have gone unchecked for years, or repeatedly smacked down by “you’re fine’s” and “everyone just feels this way sometimes.” it means becoming the adult that validates my own experiences and seeks out the help i need. when you spend years trying to fit into the parameters of normalcy, softening those instincts to run away from healing takes time. it means admitting that you can’t keep up with the act anymore.
for a person that is Very type A, anxiety ridden, and seeks to cover pain with humor, this is hard. it’s hard for me to break away from routine, or even sit still. thankfully, i’m finding ways to do this - like a regular yoga practice, journaling, and writing poetry when it feels right to. and talking. really, talking. not pointing fingers or raising my voice, but just being honest about where i’m at.
this, though, comes in bite sized pieces. i resent the end of the year reels and carefully curated posts that speak only toward the good things that happened during the year. the accomplishments, the grandiose goals for the year ahead- because that’s only a tiny fraction of what happened. i think the success is really that you survived. that you tried. that maybe, you’re just taking baby steps. maybe it’s not about a savings goal or buying a new car, but that you allowed yourself to breathe through a bind.
so i can’t sum up where i’m at or where i’m going. i can tell you what i’m working toward for 2023: more poetry, (*maybe* even a collection, cough) more warrior three poses, and allowing the zig zag of healing take me where i’m meant to go. if you’re asking me for a resolution, it’s showing more compassion. for others, and for myself.
i wish you quiet moments. i wish you deeper breaths. i wish you excitement and joy as you celebrate the close of this year and stepping into a new one.
thank you for supporting bloodstone and this new journey into writing for me. it means everything and i’m hugging you through the screen.
so much more to come,
xo
strega clare