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BPD

It’s not me.

By Renee EdwardsPublished 6 years ago 3 min read
1

She talks thru my voice box

Feels things thru my heart

She is BPD

I am Me.

We share the same body

But not the same brain

We are constantly split

One continuously triggered the other continually confused

Let go of my body

Stop making my decisions

Stop controlling my mind

Making me backseat driver to myself

Mapping my destiny

She is the darkness within me

My BPD

But she is not me

She holds her fingers around my throat when I want to speak

When I get too close to what caused her to exist in the first place

She plunges her icy fingers into my soul

Freezing me

Trapping me

So I can't be me

But two of us.

For the longest time she was able to hide

Until I realized that I wasn't the one crying

I wasn't the one yelling

I wasn't the one afraid

She holds my memories in a box she won't let me have the key to

She sits crossed legged on my heart

Eavesdropping on my life

So when she hears something

That reminds her of something she has locked away

She opens the box to identify the memory

And unleashes feelings of things she never let me understand

Because by the time I realized she opened the box

And try to look inside myself to see why

It's closed

I'm hollow

I'm crying

And I don't even know why.

She says I'm better off that way

That they're locked away for a reason

But what she doesn't understand is that she has to sleep

And when she sleeps

I slip the key off from around her frail fragile neck, that she keeps oh so close to her heart

And I unlock the box

And I dream

The memories hit me fast

Quickly

Too many too fast too dark

For me to understand

They swirl into pictures and flashes and feelings

And they grip me tight into a nightmare

Because she is angry that I've opened the box

She is angry, so she traps me in what I so desperately want to discover

I scream

I thrash

I cry

I wake up

I write down my dreams

What I've learned.

But when I'm awake

She guards my feelings

Even tighter and closer than she did before

Building up walls around the box

So not even my thoughts can penetrate

She quickly becomes my heart, my emotions

I quickly become captive in my mind, my thoughts

We are two in the same body

Her my feelings and me my thoughts

My logic can never cross my emotions

They begin to exist only one at a time

Either me

Or her

Never at the same time.

But in dreams

When she sleeps

I am awake

Creating cracks in what is now armor around my heart

So when I sleep and she is awake

She isn't aware I can now feel what she thought she had protected.

Now understand me when I say this

I don't hear voices

I know she isn't real

The little girl that holds my heart, my feelings captive.

She is merely a coping mechanism that my past has fractured into existing.

I am just now aware of her and her name is BPD

And she is not me

She does not control me.

She is my past personified within me

She thinks she is protecting me

Not knowing she is hurting me.

But I will fix all that

With therapy

With writing

With talking

Maybe if I fix my heart

That my past has broken

She won't feel the need to exist anymore.

One day at a time

She'll have to sleep

And I'll have to grow

And maybe one day we will both wake up

And be one.

I will be me

And that's all I want to be.

inspirational
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