Shut the fuck up.


Sometimes you get really fucking loud and I cant think straight.  
You make me freeze when I should be running, or run when I should be chill.
You’re mean, you’re venomous. You whisper horrors in my ear and convince me they are real.

There’s too many of you and you need to go.  
I wanted that friend even if you didn’t.
You know my insecurities and use the worst of them against me.

They love me.  I know this, even when you’re all screaming at me at once.
Why do you make me say these things?

I can’t live like this forever.



Who dis?

I’m having a real problem with my identity.
Alone time is not a thing that happens to me any more.  I don’t leave the house any more, my depression is constantly like “why? no.” and I fucking hate winter and having to wear a shit ton of clothes just to go for a walk.

I don’t feel like I can embrace my femininity because I cant even walk around naked without being catcalled from my boyfriend in the other room(not romantic).  I cant feel comfortable being naked because its always turned into such a sexual thing.

I just want to BE. 

I am not growing, I am living in a passionless world with a dark cloud hovering above.  Sometimes its further away from me but its always there and so are these eggshells. I am shushed if I am too loud.

I hate this city now.  I’m starting to hate the people here.  If you don’t have money to go out drinking you are forgotten about.  I’ve tried starting several friendships here but have lost most of them because I don’t usually go out drinking or have money to go out shopping.  What friends are these?
I’m giving up on it.

Last night my boyfriend told me that he thinks I’m more mentally healthy than he is, mind you he doesn’t have a psychologist or a therapist.  Normally this could be a compliment, but to me it just means hes completely oblivious to how fucking hard I have to try every single day to keep myself together.  To me it means he doesn’t really know me and he definitely hasn’t been listening to me.  It shouldn’t have even been a conversation, we have different issues, we grew up differently, and we are different people.  He made me feel so invalidated I cant even explain.
Ill just keep working on my art and writing and maybe one day things will be different. I know I should take things into my own hands if I want to change my life, but I am so damn tired.


Ive told everyone I know that Im having an extra hard time right now.  I have all those disorders anyways but shit still gets tough around the holidays.  The guy Im dating and living with is a self-proclaimed grinch so being home has because more of a stressor than being away.
Its the holidays, everything is sparkling and cute and cozy.  I want romance , but he just wants space.  I get it, I do. But its been quite a few weeks  and its getting really hard not to feel worthless.
I feel like a burden in my own home.  This house is the longest place I’ve ever lived, its my home…or is it?
Last few Holiday seasons I was ice skating, staying in cabins, and even just lovingly enjoying the view of the christmas lights downtown.
Becoming more hopeless. Mostly becoming more depressed and angry, very angry.

Merry Fucking Christmas

Life in December

I suck at keeping up with this.

I live in Portland Maine.
I don’t want to.
I’m a freelance artist, like most people Portland.
I’m fucked up from my childhood and various traumas, like we all are.
I see a psychologist.  I’ve been diagnosed with a slew of disorders.
The ones that stuck are Borderline personality disorder with comorbid generalized anxiety and major depressive disorders.  I also have PTSD.
Every day is a battle.

I’m here to vent, to write about how every day situations affect me.  To advocate for mental health issues. To tell secrets and blunt truths.


     My mind is never quiet.  Lately I’ve been exceedingly preoccupied with my mistakes.  Yeah, this seems normal, but not really for me. I never used to give a shit about my mistakes.  I figured that if I learned something from it, how could it really be a mistake?  Oh right because ALL of your decisions control your life and where you end up and who’s still around.  I can’t stop beating up on myself.  I’m done learning new shit, can’t I just be happy instead?

 I smoke a lot of weed right now.  I used to drink a lot. Shit gets complicated when you’re on medication though.  But right now my anxiety meds are seriously lacking.  The weed helps my insomnia, my nightmares and panic attacks.  It calms the voices in my head that are screaming at me, telling me over and over that no ones loves me.  Telling me over and over that I am nothing, that I’ll never amount to anything.
These voices….they narrate my day, they tell me what you’re thinking too.  They are just other mes, the worst of me.  Fighting them is the hardest thing I do. I’ve been sexually assaulted a few times and molested at 14 by someone I thought of as a father figure.  My mother neglected me, abandoned me, verbally, emotionally, and physically abused me.  I know things I shouldn’t, I had to grow up way too fast.  I’ve feared for my life a few times. Because of this shit, I don’t know how to relate to people.  I don’t know how to trust anyone of anything.  I’m not even sure I understand what love is.  I often flinch at other’s touch and I can have a flashback to abuse at any time it seems.

This is all just an introduction to what I’m about.  I hope to write more, I plan to write more.  Til next time.


There are many events and people from my past that randomly and inconveniently come back into my mind to haunt me.

Just like anyone else with BPD, my interpersonal relationships are somewhat tumultuous. Its almost impossible for me to trust anyone and let others in.  To feel truly wanted, loved, or appreciated is not something I expect to happen.  I’ve resisted letting anyone fully in since the spring of 2015.

I thought I had found the love of my life.  I accepted his flaws as I thought he had accepted mine.  I gave him everything and I would have done anything for him.  I still think about him every day.  I gave all of my energy, my love, devotion, and soul into that relationship just to be told that he wasn’t sure he ever loved me.  I can’t begin to explain the pain I felt afterwards.  I mean, I was hospitalized, I gave up.  And a part of me is still choosing to give up.

I’ve continued to hold onto the love I have for Nate, even though we’ve had no contact.  I can still feel him, smell him, hear his laugh. I fucked up this relationship.  I was fucked up and I ruined it.  I want so badly to get past it, to push him out of my mind so that I may let others fill me up in the same way he did.  But I am terrified.  

To let others fill that space is to allow that same hurt back into my life.  I’ve been holding onto Nate in order to keep myself safe from the pain of other relationships.  I just broke up with Steven, a guy I was dating for a year back in early January, so Ill use that relationship as an example.  Whenever I would get hurt from Steven’s words or actions I would just remind myself of the pain I felt after Nate because then it felt like so much less. The problem mattered less and Steven mattered less.  I would tell  myself, “How hurt can you really be when he’s not even the man you truly want?”, “Why does this matter when you’re not even in love with him?”  Obviously this is flawed logic and its kept me from getting too involved with anyone.  Its a hard habit to give up because it helps to alleviate my pain in the moment.  Comparing a new love to who you thought was the love of your life is a GREAT way to keep your emotions distant, its also a great way to never move on.  This little habit is keeping me from being happy in the future so I need to stop.

Its not fair to myself or to other people I’m trying to let in.  Its not realistic. Who knows what Nate is like now?  I’m certainly different than I was two years ago so I’m sure he is also.  I cant say that I am ready to let people into my mind or my heart or that I’m even ready to let Nate go, but I am certainly ready to try.  That’s the best I can do right now.


Where did I go?

I’ve been feeling pretty numb since Sunday the 5th.
I started Vyvanse on Monday.  Stimulants have always acted as a sort of mood stabilizer for me.  Stabilizing my moods by taking them away.  I can’t decide which is worse, uncontrollable frequent mood swings or not being able to feel anything at all.  I’m hoping that as my body gets used to the drug my feelings will return.
Its nice not to constantly second guess yourself and everyone around you.  I used to wonder what people were doing all the time and imagine all the ways that they could be stabbing me in the back.  But now I don’t give a shit.  I don’t lose my temper at perceived negativity.  I don’t feel lonely, I don’t feel sad.
Jealousy usually kills me, but its not killing me now.
Destroy what destroys you.

But I am not happy.  Along with all those other feelings I’ve lost I seem to have also lost joy, passion, and the ability to empathize.

Mostly I feel bored and frustrated.  When nothing gives you pleasure its hard to keep occupied.  I am frustrated that I cannot access my emotions because of the people around me.  I can’t show love to the people I know I love.  I cant reciprocate their happiness or excitement.  
I’ve gotten a lot of small tasks done and made a lot of phone calls that Id normally be to anxious to make.  I’m not taking it for no reason.

The world is strange.  Neurotransmitters are complicated.  Medication isn’t always hit or miss, there’s a lot of grey area.  There’s a lot of “wait and see”.  So I suppose thats what I’ll do.  I just wanted to check in, let everyone know how things are going.  I hope to write more, but right now I don’t really care.


It hurts to admit when people are not good for your mental health.  I’ve had to do this way too often lately. It’s difficult to boot people out of your life, it hurts, I will miss them, but I have to.
Most of my friends are damaged in some way.  I fit in with them because they are also unstable, irrational, passionate, and bitter.  But in the long run, I don’t want to be like them.  I don’t want to be how I am now, I want to be better.

I want to help people.  I want to be happy, I want to inspire courage and compassion.  I want to be a role model for little girls.  I can’t do this by being a bitter anti-social alcoholic.

If these people are happy being who they are, great- good for them, but theres just no place in my life for that kind of negativity or those kinds of behaviors.  Having BPD, GAD, and MDD makes my life hard and negative enough, I dont need other sources.  I want to be around people who can see my shine even though I’m covered in dirt.  I want to lift others up and be lifted up by friends.
I’ve changed a lot in the past year and realized how unhealthy some of my friendships are. I have no interest in some of the activities I used to love.  I have too much respect for myself to sleep with someone who is sleeping with other women.  I dont need a beer to watch a movie with a friend, although I do smoke a lot of weed now.

I find myself trying to change the subject when the discussion is negative for too long.  I never used to care.  I used to have a lot of patience for people going through a hard time, I let people treat me like shit- no fucking longer.

I associate unstable people with passion which is why I usually love them, except now, I can see how harmful they can be. If I want to recover, and I really really do, I have to be responsible for my life, my actions, my words, and those I surround myself with.  I wont be stepped on, I wont be taken for granted, I wont be used, I wont be disrespected.  I will better myself.

I’ll be out climbing mountains while you’re drinking away the days memories of your dead end job.