Followers

Monday, 31 August 2015

Day 31:

Goodbye:


So, here it is, the final day. What better way to end than on my son's 18th birthday. A milestone for him and me too. He has become an adult and maybe one day, I will become one too!! 
It's been quite a "journey" for me, a mixture of feelings and emotions. Fear mostly! Fear of being judged or not saying the right thing, the usual craziness inside my head.
I hope I have helped a few people to understand what BPD is and how it affects the lives of people like myself. How it cripples you, controls you and becomes who you are.
I started to write when I found out it was BPD awareness month. It was like my mind gave me "permission" to do it. That's the only way I can describe it. There was a purpose behind it, a valid reason if you like. I was still scared of being judged but my need to tell people about it, outweighed that. I hope that people will not be too quick to judge other people who may be a little bit different. Who may not fit in or have some kind of strange quirk or odd behaviour. No-one knows their back story. No-one knows what they have been through and indeed will never know unless you give them a bit of your time or simply a kind word. Be aware of someone else's pain. HEAR WHAT THEY'RE NOT SAYING!
Thank you to the people that have read my posts and have liked or commented on them. Especially the people I have mentioned before:
Heather Johns, Rosina Bailey, Denise Drammis, Ian Johns, Jeanette Hart, Mike Evans and Julie Nogales ( day 30) . I have also had some kind words from a few family members that I am not usually in touch with. Thank you to them too. Of course, my children deserve the most thanks. For being there, seeing it first hand, but loving me regardless. No doubt I will continue to struggle with life but I will still try to fight on. I hope I will be brave enough to comment on other people's posts sometimes or just say hello. Maybe i will fade back into obscurity, who knows.........


Sunday, 30 August 2015

Dear Therapist.

Hear what I’m not saying, know when I’m not playing
Listen to my heartbeat, I’m sitting in the hot seat
Sense my mood when talking, see the steps I’m walking
Look beneath my eyes, don’t listen to the lies
Feel my inner weakness, overlook the meekness
See beyond the mask, this is all I ask.




Saturday, 29 August 2015

Inside....

There is a place lies deep within, where I don’t wish to go 

Where pain resides with memories, that I don’t wish to know

A place so deep inside myself, I don’t know where it’s hidden

It’s somewhere buried under lies and things that are forbidden

I’ll keep it there where I am safe, not acknowledge it’s existence

Keep it buried from myself and fight on with persistence




Friday, 28 August 2015

Mandela

With perseverance and conviction
You fought against the friction
You were placed into a cage
To contain that power and rage....
Your life was changed forever with your freedom being stopped
But they couldn’t tame your character and your hope was never dropped
With forgiveness in your heart and sheer determination
You had twenty seven years to rely on rumination
Were you ever tempted to live up to your own name?
To be a troublemaker or to hang your head in shame?
Did you ever think about your wasted days inside?
Or did your sense of justice make you swell with human pride?
I wish that I had been there to make your burden lighter
You truly were a warrior and a freedom fighter




Thursday, 27 August 2015

Mayfly

I'm reminded of a poem that I read so long ago
It gave me information that I really didn't know
It told the thrilling story called "The day of the mayfly"
It simply stated just one line: Eat, sleep, shag, die!

Wednesday, 26 August 2015

For Shay....

My son, you never met him
You never saw his face
You didn't see his laughter
 But you've stepped into his place

My son, you didn't know him
He would have been so proud
I would have let you touch him
If I had been allowed

You know you look just like him
Your heart is made from love
I know he's looking down my son
He sees you from above


Tuesday, 25 August 2015

Beef

She killed him in the hallway
Her tiny frame she used
Tired of all his nonsense
And being so abused

He’d come home for his dinner
The meat defrosting on the side
He’d started asking questions
And once again, she’d lied

The coolness of the winter
Stopped the meat from getting soft
He was taking off his overcoat
When she held the meat aloft

Twenty years of torture
They had never crossed a bridge
She slowly bent to pick it up
And placed it back into the fridge!