BPD Voices Project, Living With BPD, Monique's Voice.
Comments 3

The Circle Game by Monique Potter

My hands are wringing with an urgency to never leave this place and I sway, inhaling the terrifying sweetness of it all. The greed is leaching out of me like a stream of honey, slowly covering my skin and filling the spaces around me. I resemble something that is half human and my mind bends in preparation for the onslaught of ecstasy that comes right before that inescapable urge to destroy myself again. Tonight there is beauty in destruction, even if it’s nothing more than existing in this moment without dragging up the past. As the early morning hours creep up I swerve to hit the concrete because that is the only way I know how to stop. I can no longer recall the darkness lifting. It seems to have followed me here. Was it really only a few hours ago that we lay side by side as I ran my hands along your skin? And here I am now fighting the urge to smash my open palms against your front gate.  In my mind, my hands strike down upon your door and my broken blood vessels struggle in vain to repair the damage I have caused.

I’m no longer the person you knew last night. The one that rose above the noisy mob and threw my voice to the heavens. The person who smiled with conviction. The person who looked you in the eye and made you believe that everything was going to be ok. No, I am not her. I am unfaithful and unkind. My eyes are cold and unforgiving. Don’t speak to me. Don’t come near me with your unassuming logic. I will spit at you and grind out a spiteful word for each night I have spent alone. This is the girl that feasts upon the shadows when she knows no one is watching. I can’t tell you who I am in all of this, but I can tell you that for me, these circles are hardly met with open arms, but like a moth to a flame, I dance around the edges of darkness because I secretly hope that maybe this isn’t as good as it gets. That maybe there is something else…

(Illustration by Saadah Kent)

by

I am a writer, a lover, a daughter, a sister, a friend, an auntie, a derailed artist, a comic, a traveller, and a person living with BPD. I hope that my writing and my experiences are a reminder that you're not alone. Just one day at a time.

3 Comments

  1. saadahkent says

    People around you know that you are a good person. Although sometimes, the past comes back to haunt us, I hope one day you will forgive yourself. remember, the Light House is shinning on you!!! xxxx

    Like

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