What its like for me with BPD.

My blinds are closed, I’m not home
I fear answering the telephone
I hide even from those that are dear
Because of my tormenting fears
I’m unable to talk, to make any sense
Its as though I’m behind a prison fence
I don’t want people to notice I’m unwell
To cause them confusion and dwell
For I myself don’t understand
Why I have been dealt this particular hand
I wake, look after, send kids to school
Feeling I’ve done a hundred laps of the pool
I clean the house with one thing in mind
I’m finished soon, time to sleep and somehow find
Some relief from the pain and drain
Of such a complicated brain
Unexplained torture happens within
As if I’ve committed a hundred sins
But I’m just as loving and kind as you
And I don’t know what I can do
I try to control it but it controls me
If only others, could only see
The fight I experience everyday
The amount of times I pray
I want to live, but not like this
I need a gentle hug and a kiss
Will I loose the ones I love?
Will they leave with a shove?
My inside is injured my outside looks fine
There’s only that very thin-thin line
Between sanity and insanity
Reality and non-reality
I have dreams like you I want to fulfil
But have no confidence and feel like dill
I’m so very lost, so very sad
Will I eventually go mad?
I’m surrounded by people but feel so alone
Unable to find my place within the home
I feel lost, uncertain unable to see
If I will ever feel that sense of free
I see darkness waiting for the light ahead
My body feels as though it’s made of lead
A dove unable to fly
Unable to feel life’s highs
My wing is broken
And now I have spoken
What its like to be borderline
A world I consider, not divine
But we are unique, special and kind
And that you will find
No one can love you like we can do
Because our feelings are strong sensitive and true
We are angels above
Who truly know how to love.

I would love to hear from anyone who can relate to my poem.

Relate is a wierd word ;p I do deffinately understand, being a Borderliner myself, like I noted somewhere before not the particularly anxious type but a borderliner non the less, anyway I do see alot of similarities with my own life, I wont compliment you so much on your writing style as I will compliment you on your courage and the ability to be able to voice your feelings to complete strangers. that takes alot of heart *nods* thank you for sharing , if you'd like to talk my "door" is always open *smiles*

T. Mind

I totally get it, Every word..........

Omg that's brilliant. I also have bpd and channel it out with poetry as well!
Here's one of mine:

I have a mental illness,
The short names bpd,
I've lost many years any many friends,
And even my family,

I've made mistakes too countless to mention,
I've hurt all the people i hold dear,
Because my life's an emotional roller-coaster,
One with depression, hurting and fear,

And because my brain works differently,
It's so hard to get across,
The frustrations and the anxiety,
In a world that is so dross,

The overwhelming wanting,
To simply not exist,
I try my best to ignore it,
But the thoughts they do persist,

No sense of self or identity,
No posative branch to cling,
My brain is on a mission,
I've already overthough EVERYTHING!

The overwhelming lonliness,
When even friends are by your side,
Knowing it'll worsen,
Knowing there's no where to hide,

constantly commited to improving,
Hoping i can improve it with belief,
But i know it's me i'm kidding,
As i'm consumed again with grief,

It's pointless trying to fight it,
Embrace the darkest thoughts,
Make life about the crosses,
And scribble out the noughts,

Cut out those who undermine you,
Cut out those who caused you pain,
Cut out those who always let you down,
So you dont have to deal with it again,

That's how i have to live now,
It's the only way i can cope,
The doctors were completely useless,
And the therapist doesn't fill me with hope,

I tried telling them that sometimes,
My angers beyond control,
I want to rip people from their vehicles,
And tear their limbs off like a doll,

I told them i fantasise sometimes about suicide,
About the best ways i would discuss,
Whether it was gassing myself in a lay-by,
Or throwing myself under a bus,

But despite how much i tell them,
Of my fears, i might just crack,
No system of support to speak of,
Not even a pat on the back,

So if one day i lose it,
 Go on a killing spree like that fella roul moat,
Will i be frowned upon and called evil,
And categorised in the same boat,

Will it be cast aside i asked for help,
Correction, no i begged,
Will there be a piss poor inquiry,
So some feeling of right doing is at least pegged,

Will we be fed the same old lines,
That lessons have been learned,
That staff were correctly doing their job,
When we all know that they weren't,

When mental health is cast aside,
And only mentioned at ones expense,
Society needs to change it's view,
Or risk another similar occurrence,


Hope you like it