Ever had one of those days where you just want to put your fist through a window, to feel a wave of tranquility wash over you as you pick the glass from your arm? Well, that’s basically how I feel everyday…
When I’m happy, I’m angry.
When I’m sad, I’m angry.
When I’m completely content my mind will go a mile a minute at times, taking me to places that I don’t want to go. Although I try to shove it down, it doesn’t seem to fix the problem. With further contemplation in an attempt to provide myself with self awareness, I’ve realized that this is normal. Yet, I can’t help but wonder if maybe… just maybe it affects me more intensely. Given my diagnosis of BPD, a qualified professional would tell me that it certainly the case—yet with all the therapy I’ve done, all the drugs that I’ve taken, and all the progress I’ve achieved through sheer will and dedication; I still feel angry.
This is something that is unlikely to change—I can try my hardest to live my best life, but more than likely, I’ll carry this rage around for the rest of my life. Instead of ruminating and allowing it to crush my spirit, the best thing would be to accept that this is normal.
Anger seizes me…
I’m trapped
I’m choking
I’m dying within this flesh tethered confinement!
I’m just as benumbed to the life moving around me as they brag on their emptiness
as if apathy is something to be revered.
The world is shallow and savage
I feel my blood become frozen as my heart turns cold.
Now, with my baneful eye
I crave war and suffering with the metallic taste of death.
I am no different
I am just as cold
I am just as empty
I am just as vain.
