We do for others because we don't know how to do for ourselves. We do for others because we feel it is the only way to make up for the damage we feel our craziness is doing to society. We do for others because it makes us feel good when nothing else in the whole world does, not even pills. We stay quiet and sit in the corner because others seem so much more needy. We require so little, you and I. A fact which does not sit well with others who would label us as too much to handle. When in truth, all those such as us really need is a bit of understanding, a bit of reciprocation, maybe a touch on the cheek once in a while and a sly wink. The rest of the world is needy. I'd rather be crazy. ~~Aimee

Monday, 29 August 2011

Portals Through Blogerapy



The last few months have been turbulent but that isn't saying much. My last few days/weeks/months/years are almost always turbulent in some form or fashion. At times the turbulence seems to have a life all its own. Pulling, dragging and clawing at me. Ripping me down to shreds then taping me back together just to do it all over again. This seems to be the process that is my life.

However since I began writing, truly writing, not just spewing combinations of letters into words and gluing them together with puncuation, but purging my soul. Exposing myself. Making myself vulnerable. Putting all of  the ugly that has been devouring me from the inside out there for all to see. I have noticed profound changes have taken place in my thought processes. When these changes actually started taking place I am not sure. All I know is that they are there now. The nasty voice that lives inside of me that tells me how worthless I am now has competition. Another voice has taken root beside of it. A voice that says I am NOT the things that the nasty says I am.

I am not perfect. I am flawed. Broken in some places. Chipped in others, but nevertheless I have value even if that value is only within myself. I don't know how long this thinking will last. I hope it stays because I kinda like it. I like the lightness of it. It doesn't remove the darkness instead it has incorporated itself into the darkness and I kinda like that. I like my differentness. I don' t want to lose it. I am certain this road is just the beginning. I have no idea where it is going to end, but I do know that I plan on shaping its journey instead of just allowing it to drag me along like dirt stuck on the mudflap. I am tired of the world shaping my existance.

Now it's my turn.


I wrote this awhile ago, but never published it. Seems I need to read this again. 

4 comments:

The Little Penmark Girl said...

"I like my differentness. I don' t want to lose it."

YES. YES. YES. AND YES.
Whether you realize it or not, you just said that you like yourself. That is what you said. YOU LIKE YOURSELF. Can you believe that? It's true. And you know something else? I like you, too. I love you.

Kim said...

Oh thank goodness. I'm so glad to hear it. The thing is, even for some of us who weren't born with the challenge of bpd, life is a constant struggle, constant conscious fight to believe that despite the bad stuff, we're still good, still worthwhile, still lovable. I love that you're finding this healing through writing. I have a similar journey with blogging. It's been priceless for what it's given me. Keep writing my friend, keep knowing that you are worth fighting for. Big, big hugs.

Borderline Lil said...

I'm so happy you've started to hear that other, positive voice. Your writing is powerful and honest, and I'm glad it is having a profound effect on you.

Haven said...

Yay! So glad to hear this! You have far more value than you probably believe. Just ask us, we know. I'm glad you've found something of a nightlight of hope into the darkness. I hope it stays for a long, long time.

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