#bpd poetry
“I found a way to erase you from my head, I just need to find my pulse again.”
Original Quote By RumourTalks
“I couldn’t be more fucked up if I tried, - I would kill myself but I’ve already died.”
Original by RumourTalks
You live, you laugh,
You hope, you try.
You do your best,
And then you die.
If you live your life,
then props to you.
But i can’t do the things normal people do.
What do normal people do?
Original poetry by RumourTalks
So, listen.
All my life I’ve been doing my best to keep up with others, to get things done, to move forward just fast enough. Now I’m 24, I finished school but I have no further education and I’m far, FAR behind of what other people achieved at my age. My mental illnesses got in the way and forced me to go much slower.
I grew up believing that I’d be something great, that I’d be successful and normal and fine. Now I’m a 24 year old self taught ghostwriter, still struggling with addiction, suicidal thoughts, social anxiety etc. and that’s not what I had in mind. But guess what? It’s ok. I’m alive, I’m slowly learning how to live this life and I’ve learned one thing of importance: life is not a race nor is it a checklist you can go through step by step. You can’t outpace your own abilities and the sooner you accept your limits without limiting your potential, the sooner you’ll move in the right direction.
I got better. I stopped cutting, I’m clean, I have a job, a fiance, an apartment. I have a life, a good one. I’ve spent the past four years creating it step by step, far slower than everyone around me. Just to wake up today, noticing I don’t want to live it anymore.
On the wall right behind the place my therapist sits during our appointments is a quote of Max Frisch, Swiss author. It says that crisis is a productive condition. You just have to take away it’s taste of catastrophe. I’ve spend a lot of time looking at that quote and even more time thinking about it. I hope some day I’ll be able to follow Max Frischs advice.
You ask me ‘who are you?’ and I collapse. Who am I? I have a name, but I can’t put myself in words. I’m changing. Every day, every single moment. I’m trying to accept, that I’m a work in progress, yet a masterpiece. I’m more than you could ever understand and still less than you expect. I don’t know who exactly I am and I don’t think I’ll ever find out. That’s ok. I am. I just am.
I am.
Five years ago I wanted to die. Three years ago I thought life would never be worth it. Today I’m still struggling, but that’s ok. I’m still here and I’m finally glad that I am.
At the moment I feel like dying. But I won’t. I’ve felt like this before. And I’ll survive.
After all these years of ‘I can’t’, saying 'I can and I will’ feels like finally breaking free.
Recovery is worth it, I promise.
Sometimes it’s my own temper that scares me most.
Way too slowly I realised that no one’s gonna save me this time. No one has to. I’m finally strong enough to save myself.
