Thoughts. Musings. Electrical Synapses.

Borderline Personality Disorder, Self Harm and everything in between.

Gravity Swing

Oscillating from despair to tranquility, from fear to bliss, from hatred to love, from insecurity to self assurance.

There I go every day, as and old clock that doesn’t keep time, but loses it to the irregular speed at which it swings.

The pendulum has blades, and sometimes, cuts my life shorter.

Advice from a friend:

“Don’t travel until you are ready to say goodbye.

When?

This has always been a confusing thing for me: how long to wait until having sex with someone, or if waiting is rather pointless? Is there no right or wrong waiting time?

I would really like to read opinions on this.

“I love sleep. …

“I love sleep. My life has a tendency to fall apart when I’m awake.”

Ernest Hemingway

June 30, 2013

It’s been a year since we first met face to face. We hugged as if we had known each other forever, and it always felt like that. The night was electric, and you felt like coming home.

You became my best friend and lover. We would talk about anything, and not once there was rejection or finger pointing, only acceptance and empathy. Neither of us owned anything, all we could offer each other was ourselves, which made it pure and authentic.

When we were out, I was always you’re girlfriend or your wife, not just a friend, even though we both knew different. You tried to stay, but language barriers and other situations that arose made you return to your country.

Since you left we talked on the phone and texted everyday, these last few months it has been sporadic, not constant. I’ve tried to detach myself, which is why I never initiate communication, but when I least expect it you’re there, reminding me it was real and that the distance between us is a huge gap.

That summer I learned something very valuable: that love is about appreciating that other soul and its beauty, without trying to cage it and possess it, love is freedom.

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Mad Girl’s Love Song

By Sylvia Plath

“I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;
I lift my lids and all is born again.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

The stars go waltzing out in blue and red,
And arbitrary blackness gallops in:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed
And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

God topples from the sky, hell’s fires fade:
Exit seraphim and Satan’s men:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I fancied you’d return the way you said,
But I grow old and I forget your name.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

I should have loved a thunderbird instead;
At least when spring comes they roar back again.
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)”

Flatlined

I’m in bed, the night is deadly silent, except for the crickets and the repetitive, soft sound of the fan.

I don’t feel a thing. Gradually I’ve developed apathy for almost everything, nothing moves me.

What have I become? I wonder if this is worse than the storm of feeling everything too deeply. My face is inexpressive, or so I’ve been told. I spend too much time inside my head, and nearly none inside my body.

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Anchors

How I wish I could drink and smoke all day. I have no problem with being by myself, that’s my default mode, but sometimes loneliness becomes unbearable. It’s so heavy it sinks me.

My thoughts and loneliness are anchors, and I don’t have to be under water to feel like I’m drowning.

Bored to death, so I spiked my coffee with brandy. Let’s see where this experiment leads.

ImBalance

recover10

 

For over a year I’ve been back on medication, and like the lady in the picture above, I’ve been taking Celexa. I’ve found SSRI’s work better for me than tricyclic antidepressants, which make my BPD symptoms worse. However, sometimes I feel it’s harder to express what I’m thinking and/or feeling than when I’m off medication. I don’t know if this is a common experience, but it’s a side effect I hate, even more than the weight gain. Every day I struggle to get a grip on the emotions that overwhelmed me before, even if it’s only anger or sadness I can find. I don’t want to lose my humanity or my sense of self because of a chemical imbalance, and I don’t want to be locked in a mental hospital for the same reason. I hope I can figure out how to make a balance some day.

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