Borderline is not an easy thing to have. I will be the first to tell you that. It has taken me a long time to realize that despite the fact that it can be a curse, it is also something beautiful. A sort of superpower. I only realized this, this past summer. I forgot it after a big trauma but, I’m now realizing it again. I know a lot of you may not believe me, but let me tell you how I see it. 

Although I so often fall from grace, and yes that hurts, it fucking hurts more than anything, I also touch the heavens. Without falling, you can’t fly. These intense emotions, are beautiful in a sense, I feel more deeply than most. I love with all my being. Because of them, I can see in all the beautiful colors. Because of it, I know not to waste a moment of this finite life, to make most of my time. I know that those rare beautiful moments, are worth holding onto. That the little things in life, like a beautiful day or holding hands or the smell of the air after a summer shower are what’s important. That materialistic things won’t make you happy but the substance of good people and beautiful times, whether happy or sad because they mean something, in some way. Because they brought you to this exact moment, to these people in your life. 

With BPD, doesn’t just come these intense emotions. I also have superpowers. I have the sharpest tongue I know. I know that could also be a bad thing but in my life, the things that have happened, the hurtful, traumatizing things. I’ve learned to stand up for myself and my words cut like a knife. I cut like a razor with my words. I always say, no one can win an argument with a Borderline or anyone who dares start a fight with one better be prepared for what will happen. I will use my words to not only protect myself but people I love and I’m good, I know I’m good. 

I have the ability to love with every inch of my being, to fall in love so easily and to jump right in, while a lot of people hesitate. They stay guarded but I give myself, all of myself. Not afraid of love and relationships or giving myself to someone completely. 

The greatest superpower is the ability to care and have empathy because I know. I know on the deepest level and I don’t want anyone to hurt. I feel so deeply that I would never want anyone to feel bad. That is why, why I’m not afraid to tell my story, why I want to go into the psych field as a nurse, why I do this. Because if my story, my art, can touch just one person, I’ve done enough. All I’ve ever wanted to do was help people. 

So maybe having this, being mentally ill, in any way, is not completely terrible because it brought you here, it made you, you. Sometimes you just need to change your perspective. See things from a different view. You know sometimes, I will lay on my bed upside down, just to change my perspective.



I heard once that people with Borderline Personality Disorder are the real outcasts. I’ve been thinking about that. I’ve been thinking about my emotions, about explaining things to people and having it completely fly over their head. Left feeling completely frustrated, alone.
It really is true. We are the most misunderstood, stigmatized. I try to explain myself to my boyfriend when I’m feeling someway, and it just doesn’t get through to him. Not really. How could it? You can’t really understand it, not really, unless you have it. 
The intense emotions, overpowering you, guiding every fucking action, moment in your life. 

The fact that it is so much, that it physically drains you. To the point you can’t even get out of bed or eat, even though you’re hungry. 

That you cry when you’re depressed, angry, happy, any emotion that overwhelms you. 

That the whole world is falling apart but then the whole world is in the palm of your hand. Or how it constantly fluctuates between the two. 

That one second you can completely and utterly love someone and then in the next second for the slightest thing hate them with your every being. 

But those don’t compare to the fear that all of these things always leads to your eventual abandonment. In whatever form that may be. 

And no one, no one, unless they are like this, have this, understands you. So, you keep it all in. Imploding a thousand times over. Destroying yourself, slowly. 


Silver Hills Chronicles: The first time in

I was 16, in tenth grade. It was November. To give you some background information before I go into detail. I was in a program, kinda like special education but this was called the fragile program, for kids who had issues but intelligent. It was based in a regular school but was not apart of the school district. Back to the story, I was in tenth grade. 16 at the time. Dating a boy named Jason. I had just started at the beginning of the school year, at this program. 

One day, in November, after one of my classes. I overheard the programs, psychologist, speaking on the phone with my parents about sending me to a boarding school. What I didn’t know at the time was that the boarding school, had a day program. 

So, being a 16 year old girl, hormones and all, I yelled, very loudly, “if you send me away, I’m going to kill myself.” 

They wanted to send me to the hospital right there on the spot, but my parents calmed down the psychologist and let me finish out the day. I took the school bus home. When I got home, my parents told me I was going to go to the hospital. I cried, pleaded, screamed but gave up. I told them I’d go if, my boyfriend could come over first to say goodbye.

He got off the train, crying. He hugged me so tight. We hung out for an hour, I think. Before he left I gave him my art journal to write in while I was gone, he gave me his hoodie. Saying goodbye, felt like the end of the world. I was so in love. 

We left the house around 7. I was crying the whole way. The hospital was only 17 miles away but it was in another state. They told me how nice this place was, how famous people would go here for help, it’s true. 

We got to the hospital, walked to intake. It seemed like an eternity but the process took 3 hours. Afterwards, they took us to the main house. The adolescent unit was on the top floor, sorta in an attic looking space but really nice and cozy.

They took my belongings, searched them. Took away belts, laces, my nine inch nails sweatshirt. They took my parents and I into a room to talk, a dr and a nurse. I only remember one thing from that conversation. My mom told them that it was no big deal everyone tries to kill themselves. This struck a cord with the lady, she raised her voice and said, “your daughter cuts herself at every major artery, do you realize that, this is serious.” 

After that my parents had to leave. I was so scared and so alone. I hugged them goodbye. I made sure they were coming back. 

Then they took me into a back room, where a big scary nurse did a body check. She said take off all your clothes. Scared, I asked why. She told me they had to check for scars and cuts. I had no choice. I did what she said. She checked my whole body, not even in a way that made me feel comfortable. I was left ashamed and embarrassed. Horrified. To this day, I can still remember how horrible that felt. Dehumanizing. 

I got put in my own room. I tried escaping that first night but the window locks wouldn’t budge. I couldn’t sleep, so I went up to the nurses station, they gave me Benadryl. 

I woke up that morning to a note in my bathroom, it had an eye, a heart and a U. Like when I was little, my mom used to leave me them. She had one of the nurses put it there. 

I was there for ten days, it was the best time of my life.

*more hospital adventures to come 

The Adderall lifestyle 

I was diagnosed with ADD/ADHD at 7 years. But don’t get it wrong, I’m not one of those people who was just written off as having it, that is really just a “problem child” growing up. Trust me. I have stories I could tell you, but that is not what this is about. This is about now, me, 28 year old, me. As you have read the title of this, so named because that is what adderall is. Maybe it wasn’t at first. At first it was so I could focus in school but as I got older, it became my monster. I loved it. Then it was a problem. And now, now that I’m getting it in control, it’s a lifestyle. 

I call it a lifestyle for a few reasons. You see, as I got older the effects of it changed, morphed in how it worked on me. It stopped being the kind of pill that would turn me into a robot that sat for hours focusing on school, to a superhero who could do anything, and finally to a functioning human being. 

I now take it to feel normal with a side of pep. It’s the only way I can do daily tasks. Things that “normies” wouldn’t bat an eye at. 

Now, instead of it being my focusing med, it’s my motivation med. I can get out of bed because of it. I can think clearly, take care of myself, do creative things, have energy. 

This is why I call it the Adderall lifestyle. Because it really is a lifestyle. It changes everything. Having BPD, PTSD, anxiety, these are fucking exhausting. Battling myself everyday is exhausting. So, if I need a little help to get up and do the most mundane tasks, ones people don’t usually need to think about, then I think it’s okay. As long as I’m careful because that lifestyle can become a problem real quick. 

But that’s just one of the meds that keeps this borderline functioning in society. 


Sky on fire

Sky on fire Like, the emotional 

Nerve endings, I feel 
Peering through the trees 

A blazing array of fiery colors

The sunset glows

Hues of oranges and reds 
The end of a new day 

But not for me 

This is just the beginning 

Because nightfall 

Brings new life
It brings new 

Burns to my 

Already open 

But, I, I survive