Inspired

Yesterday morning my little 11 year old 5lb Pomeranian died suddenly with no warning… I have been devastated. Especially being so unbalanced lately with meds and starting my senior semester as a psych research student. Out of all of this, all my friends were nowhere to be found. For months I lost my spark. The one that drives creativity but yesterday I found it in the strength and grief and love for my old companion.

This is what came of it… the last picture is basically finished just need a few finishing touches but in pain is art and in art is pain and in that is solace. Remember that.

Charcoal

I remember yelling at the school counselor who was on the phone with my parents, “ if you send me to boarding school, I’m going to kill myself!”

I was 16. After school, at 7pm, my parents took me to the hospital. My first hospitalization ever.

I’m not going to get into it because this is not what this post is about.

One of the days I was there, my brother came to visit with his then college girlfriend.

I had always loved art. Never took any art classes but I loved art.

Well, my brother comes with this blue beautiful sketchbook and charcoal. Which I had never had or used before. I had only really ever doodled or painted when I was a child.

Well, here I am now, 30. This is a photo of one of my most prized possessions, now a tattered, falling apart old beautiful blue sketchbook and 11 of my charcoal drawings from that time.

Please if you wish, let me know how they make you feel.

-B.

Endless

That’s the beauty of life. Endless possibilities and endless adventures. Endless emotions to feel. I think that’s why I haven’t been able to actually go… why I keep trying because there’s too much more to do. So much more to experience. So much more heartache, love, magic and beauty. How could I ever leave that? Even if at the end it was all darkness at least I got to try. Right? I got to love, I got to see beauty, I picked myself up. I kept going. I walked through hell. I survived. Because none of us are making it out alive.

-B.

2-22-19

What you need to remember: Being Borderline

A text I wrote to my boyfriend when he told me to wear my pain like armor:

I think you sometimes forget you’re with someone who feels things on a scale you’ll never be able to understand. That it’s exactly like I’m a burn victim but with emotional nerve endings being plucked at random and nothing I can do to stop it. Try to wear that immense emotion. When everything you feel is magnified by 100,000. And you have to hold it together all the time because people never feel that much but you do. So they don’t understand why you could hurt so bad about something. Image the worst emotional pain you’ve ever felt and imagine that magnified like trying to kill ants but everyday. And add in other emotions like that. How are you supposed to wear something that hurts so much you can barely hold it up or breathe. There is a reason why my dx is the number one mental illness for not making it. Because image the weight of all those emotions and trying to wear them… it’s like burying yourself in boulders and gasping for air.

Being his.

What was it like being his?

At first, in the beginning, the first six months… were a dream come true, a fairytale. I was a real live princess and he was Prince Charming. Those were the days. He was everything I ever imagined. He’d carry my books to class for me, open doors, get me sweet presents. We were in love. His parents even showed me around at a party as their future daughter in law.

Then summer came. I was set to go on a teen tour with my best friend for two months. I was utterly sad that I was leaving him but I had my cell phone and would call him every night.

Off I went on the best summer, so, I thought. He started getting jealous but nothing too bad. He was jealous because of two boys on the teen tour I had befriended. We worked through it and I thought we were stronger for it.

Then our sixth month anniversary came. With it, a monster or a total 180. Everything changed. It was too late though, I was completely in love. I’d die for him and he knew it. That was dangerous.

From that first fight on our 6 month until the end, i don’t know what day, I just know the whole thing lasted around 16 and a half months. But from the first fight till the end, I was in hell.

Who knew a 14 year old could be a psychopath, a sociopath, a monster. I’m still reeling from the depraved things of that relationship. It set the course for my life and is why, I started with this.

The can’t remember how the changes started or what they started with but I can tell you what sort of hell I was living in. The things he would do.

The fighting was constant, he was always starting a fight. He was good though, making me think it was my fault. I’m the end I was the one apologizing and feeling horrible. Sometimes after these fights when I would be crying, he’d feel me up. I don’t know why he’d do that. He’d also say, “give me a present”. Meaning show me your boobs.

He got extremely possessive. He always checked my phone to see who I called and wanted to check my phone bill. He had his friends spy on me, to see who I was talking to in school. If I was dressed nice or my hair was nice he would ruin how I looked. If I went out, he would call me and stay on the phone because he knew where the cut out spots where, a way of catching me in a lie.

He was cruel. For my birthday he bought me a razor. He recorded us having phone sex and played it for everyone. He broke up with me before our anniversary and through it in my face for days then took me back. He made fun of my brothers best friend Suicide. He would say things like, “you’re beautiful to only me.”

He was abusive in every way possible. He hurt me physically a few times but it was mostly emotional and mental abuse.

The worst was the sexual abuse.