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From the day I was born, I was physically abused. My father was your typical alcoholic, and my mother was not a big fan in stopping him....although she ended up being the very person who did. And my mom is termed as a nymphomaniac, (I hate that term) So you could say I came into the world with two strikes against me. Eventually, the physical abuse would stop, due to my parent's divorce, (at the time I thought it was my fault) and my mom would marry again, only months after the divorce....by this time I was still only five. Even this early I hated the abandonment I felt, my stepfather was so demanding of attention from my mother that I felt alone all the time, and when I found out I was kind of a failure at making friends, I made up some of my own. At 13 I knew something was wrong...I was sleeping with anyone who I could, just to feel some kind of emotional connection, and the only real person who cared about me was my to this day best friend Tony.....I'd have to say without his help I wouldn't have made it this far. Also at this point I had quite a bad temper, but people thought that was normal since my father had one also, but mine wasn't just a temper, it was the ability to go from happy, to depressed to angry, to giving myself a concussion on a brick wall just to feel better all in the same couple of hours. Everyone calls me "Crazy" and sometimes I feel that way, but I keep trying to tell myself I'm not. I've spent the last two years studying Psyche to find out what was wrong, and I couldn't think of anything, it couldn't be depression, because that was only part of what I was feeling....then I came across BPD, I almost passed it up because I thought it was for depression wannabe's, but then I looked into it and realized that the people that recounted their stories sounded just like me, and then I read off the "symptoms" to Tony and some other people, (teachers guidance counselors) and they agreed that it sounded like me. The one thing that I don't have in common with everyone else is my second personality, It's like who I blame the bad things on, like when it screws me up so bad I just push everyone away or change my entire personality or something or just fly off into a rage....I'd just stand back and scream inside my own head at what's going on, but all I can do is watch as he plays with my life. I get into car accidents, go into heroine induced crime sprees, and sometimes I go back to sleeping around (although not lately, I don't want to cheat on my g/f) I just lie awake in bed at night for hours thinking...I don't know what to do. I wrote this poem as sort of an apology to my friends after one
of my rages. |
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