My Petite Blog

On and off poems from the dark parts of my mind.
My writing comes in waves, as words are not my most
reliable ally and leave me behind sometimes (or I them).
But when they are there, this blog contains my daily
relapses translated in words.

I got diagnosed with multiple disorders when I was 19
and I lived them, before and after the diagnoses,
and now here I am. Not “cured” or “recovered”,
but better than I was. Most days. Acceptance is what makes
me better, not a diminishing of feelings and symptoms.
This is either disappointing or quite enough, depending
on your expectations of recovery and life.

I try to be as honest as I dare, in the hope of creating
a tiny increase in understanding things like mental
illness, borderline, depression, suicidal thoughts &
ideations, etc and crack the stigma. Or just to let you see
you’re not the only one. Both for me and you.
Being ill is not as otherworldly as it seems sometimes.

There are also light parts.
But I never really learned to write about contentedness.

If you decide to stick around: thanks for reading.

My woodland heart

The winter winds can’t carry me now, as I
wander through the almosts of my mind,
I’m here, but this longing’s keeping me
down to the ground, I gave a piece
of me to you without knowing, and

never was there someone
so careful
to give it back to me
whole

The forest surrounds me rustling, to let
go of all that’s sad, and, have courage,
dear heart – I let heartache play with the
leaves amongst the trees, a moment of
quiet inside, feeling suspended, but
I don’t want comfort

I just want you.

I step softly into being
just me, leave you to
the leaves and the trees,
my echo of a friend,
what could have been,

what might be.

Hold me, heartache

As I ran, without thinking, into your arms,
love didn’t trip me. If it had, maybe I would’ve
caught me. But I would give me to keep
you, just a girl in love, would do anything

to prove my love was right.

As I ran, without thinking –
I would’ve never guessed I could feel
this much. A saltwater sea of shaking
heartache, and all I could do was swim.

I shivered the grief from my fingertips,
paint echoes of home onto others –
but I still feel

you.

Saying goodbye to Grandma

Now that you are leaving I shrink,
travel back in time to be how we were
back then: watch movies on the
big screen; walk in the park (which
was not a great park, but pretty okay,
you’d say); buy groceries at the mall
(there was no mall back home)
and eat ice cream after,

once I fell from the escalator and
smeared my ice cream all over the
floor: shouldn’t have been running;
once I got so dizzy from playing,
I felt sick all day and did not want
any of the candy you got for me,

(once I felt so guilty for being homesick
that I wished I would disappear, like
Kermit who wished he’d never been born,)

once you found my secret stash of
night time candy and hid it, you
looked so young when you smiled,
you didn’t tell my dad –

I don’t know if memories are something
that you have or that you lose, but I
have you, right now, in my mind

for one last time
before you go

Farewell dream

Hold tight your tired little heart,
just breathe, through the fear and
through the pain, throw life
against the walls, be there
to catch it, I am alive, I can
take this

until I can take no more

then breathe for me
and leave me be
just an echo of this self
fading softly, let me go,
I promise I can sleep, in
this still and far gone sea

Everything will be fine,

you tell me,
chin up and seize the day

words stale on my
tongue from all this
swallowing

but when I fly
and all is bright
I see down always

and when I am
down, I
do lift my eyes

it’s just
all too dark
to see

Thoughts of leaving

Tonight fits me like an oversized coat:
I drown in it, hands tucked in sleeves
now I cannot grasp what is real, I sink
to my knees carrying this weight I could
just drop, you say, but then what of me
in this cold –

Tonight burns like flames left unattended

your dreams became my fire escape;
without them I either jump or burn

but from up here it is too long a way down


What I mean to say is: most days don’t feel
right, I float through waves of acceptance while
coughing out this salt water flowing behind
my eyes like the tides, ebbing and

flooding

I cannot tell you that I’d rather stop
drifting, I cannot tell you that
I’d rather go home

And they say that time heals all wounds
but time passes, and I stumble after,
tired; I cannot tell you that
if it were just me
I’d rather

give in

Sitting hand in hand with my love

I miss you more than I can say, today,
sitting hand in hand with my love
that now has nowhere to go
but to me, while I
don’t know how to hold it

but what I thought was happiness; just
a silkscreen of my belonging somewhere
safe, weary of searching
for what I cannot find in me

I miss you more than I can say, today
sitting hand in hand with my love
that now has one place to go:

me, learning to hold it

New Year’s Resolution

This year, I haven’t been writing much. I met someone who I thought was normal and all I wanted was just that. No more diagnosis, no more psychiatrists, frustration, grief, guilt, fear. I took your thoughts and dreams as my foundation to built my new self, the self I always longed for, or so the story goes.

But normal was not what it seemed and you used me more than I used you; in our private little game we had nothing left to do but spiral so down we went, and all the things I felt and stored away as symptoms was just me telling myself, I’m lost. It took me months to start to listen, and when I did I did lose someone but I found back myself.

And now the year is almost over, and I am left feeling like I took the long road home; home in my thoughts, my words, my body. Next year I want to keep coming home, and I want to keep writing.

Thank you so much for following me, and for reading even when I post so infrequently.

Hermit crab

I borrowed your body as a shell to be
my home in this liquid longing, ever
changing outlines of my soul, I found
me in the midst of our belonging
in the waves of my love not
met by yours

and blinded by this light I fight, but
what I thought could be home was just
you echoing before, nothing more

so I paint over what I’d rather see
dream of sunshine washing over me
know now nothing here will save us
as I drift an empty vessel
in this blue and lonely sea

Break up

The day after you left me was the first time I
did not feel alone since I stopped breathing
me, how I forgot that being two can feel less
than one sometimes, as I looked away
from me and inside you, I forgot,

I am,

still,

I am the trees in winter, you left me like
cold wind blowing through without the
protection of leaves, breaking off branches
so that now I can grow anew, a different shape

I am like the birds in formation flying south,
going where life tells me to, even now
I am tired, even now I am sad, I follow life
and leave this place without doubt, I am

the woman next door sitting eyes closed
in the sun, smiling at a silent thought, I am,

me again,

and recalling the quiet of alone