Are you dead yet? Cause I am, I've been dead on the inside for as long as I can remember but the sad truth is that I don't want to die. I want to be alive so to live and smell the sweet aromatic fragrance of flowers and the fresh air above the mountain peaks...yet I see no point in surviving in a world that is in shambles. Where can I go to find solace? Is there any place on earth that I can just move to? How do I exist in a new land? Am I going to conform or rebel?
Or maybe the sanctuary is within me, my bodily temple that I've neglected to appreciate.
Shall I seek revenge if the opportunity ever arises? I will have to extinguish all aggression that intrudes upon my tranquility thus to not live in regret.
Who was I before I was born? Who am I after I'm born, Who will I become after I die?
For now it doesn't matter I guess... I am what I am... so I avoid what I hate and try to enjoy what little I have.
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The things I think of when I'm alone
PoésieUnbearable pain that is expressed and acknowledged becomes bearable. But people who have suffered from BPD received no such responses in their childhood. Therefore, they are stuck in the past, trying to elicit what they needed as a child-validation...
