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It has been a while,Now let's smell the ocean.

It has been a while,Now let’s smell the ocean.

Recently, I had confided in a friend my woes to going on a much needed, first ever, including the toddler, out of state vacation. ( side note wish me luck because I leave in two days and still have not packed ) While expressing my wishes for a great family get away and motivation to pack, I had mentioned my missing the smell of the ocean. It is maybe an acquired like of that salty, fresh, not too…

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I am a fucking Gryffindor! ⚡🦁💛❤😊 #harrypotter #gryffindor #musicianslife #musiclife #music #newmusic #singersongwriter #instafollow #instagood #followback #artist #dollsteaks #makeupaddict #punk #l4l #ptsdsurviver #ptsdawarness #myjourny #depression #anxiety #bpd #allyouneedislove #spreadthelove #wcw #tattoos #girlswithtattoos https://www.instagram.com/p/BpGlfGVnhMC/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1jvvymhkh4b72

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Take a look!

BPD and me, while being a mommy.

BPD and me, while being a mommy.

Brief introduction: I have three wonderful children, an eight-year-old, a five-year-old, and a one year old. Not much more needs to be said about them (besides the fact they are all fucking awesome and I would never change having them in my life for the world). Kids are amazing, confusion, huge responsibilities that come with as many pros as they do cons. Fight me on the cons part, parents know…

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BPD and me, while being a mommy.

BPD and me, while being a mommy.

Brief introduction: I have three wonderful children, an eight-year-old, a five-year-old, and a one year old. Not much more needs to be said about them (besides the fact they are all fucking awesome and I would never change having them in my life for the world). Kids are amazing, confusion, huge responsibilities that come with as many pros as they do cons. Fight me on the cons part, parents know…

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BPD and me, pt.3 Where I am at now

BPD and me, pt.3 Where I am at now

After an extremely low and crisis like state of mind, two years of not knowing exactly what was going on, I got help.  I went to my therapist and asked to be put on medication to regulate my rage and to help with my always looming suicidal thoughts.  I was out of options. I either continued to self medicate until I became an addict to drugs and alcohol, or I was going to kill myself.  There was…

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BPD and Me pt. 2, Before diagnosis.

BPD and Me pt. 2, Before diagnosis.

Imagine waking up, covered in bruises and your own blood. “Where the hell am I? How did I end up in my basement?” Looking down I see fresh cuts and bloody cloths, my phone is broken, and I cannot recall anything past the third whiskey sour and at least second shot of whatever alcohol was handed to me. I talk to the person who was with me that night and he paints a picture of this hysterical Holly.

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BPD and Me pt. 1

Borderline personality disorder, or BPD is one of five categorized personality disorders. You'll find other personality disorders in this category like, narcissism or schizophrenia. I'm sure people imagine me running around with two people in my head controlling me, they may worry about their own safety around me, or the safety of myself. Needless to say it is a lot of fun to say I have bpd at parties because people look at me like I must be crazy. ha! Well yes, yes I am.

Bpd is 40% hereditary (thanks mom) and 60% environmentally caused. It can be diagnosed overtime with a series of manic (really high ups that make a person feel like they are completely invincible) and depressive (really low lows often leading to more destructive coping mechanisms) episodes. Some other fun lil side effects of BPD are bouts of rage, unstable relationships, body dysmorphia, anxiety, and depression.

What has lead to this diagnosis for me is really fucked up and invalidating upbringing (60% environmental) and my mother had BPD, granted it went undiagnosed but the similarities are outstanding (40% hereditary).  I was always someone who wanted to make everyone happy, and unfortunately I was taken advantage of because of this more respected trait of people pleasing. An evil man molested and raped me for years during my youth. My mother was married to this man and instead of protecting her sweet lil "Holstirberry" as she once called me, she made an arrangement to basically pimp me out to her fiancé so she could have all the luxuries this man brought to our lives.

I was groomed and molded to be whatever Mike (evil stepdad) and Melisa (evil biological mother) wanted me to be. My mother wanted a happy, studious, submissive and funny little girl. Mike wanted all that and then some more mature and adult things (we'll get into that in another post). Essentially I was told by many trusted adults in my life how to feel.

"You're not sad, you love me"

"You do enjoy me treating you like an adult"

"You cannot be sad that I hit you"

"You must be happy for the gifts I've given you"

"Your life could be much worse"

After years of invalidating emotional abuse, years of resent from my own mother that manifested into physical abuse, and the endless sexual abuse I endured daily, I was pretty numb. Fifteen years old is when I can place my first very depressive episode. I began to cope by binge eating (Mike thought my weight was gross so I thought if I could just gain more weight he wouldn't touch me. HA! that did not work), self mutilation, disassociating, self sabotaging my education, and generally not giving many fucks about life. I was a mess. I was so lost and felt entirely too out of control.

About a year later I experienced this "wake up" moment. People who understand mania can probably relate. I just suddenly realized I had all this power to control my own destiny and had taken some serious steps to gain my own independence from my parents at the time. I felt untouchable, I felt superior to the fucked up-ness of my living situation. So, I pushed my mother's buttons enough to get kicked out of my own house. "MWAHAHAAAA yes YEEESSSS Kick me out you evil twat, I will not be a live in mistress any longer!" I got to experience street living for a bit and mania really helped me not succumb to the fear living on the streets could present. Nothing could touch me!

Jump to my 17th year of living and BOOM! My whole life got turned upside down. I confided in my sweet Auntie, who happens to be a teacher, and teachers are mandated reporters of any sort of child abuse, so she HAD to tell the cops, despite my protest.

Why the heck would you protest Holly?!

Well, I was groomed, I was taught that the only thing I was worth was the meat sack I wore to protect my very confused and delicate soul residing inside. I was told Mike would kill himself, my mother would not be taken care of, my sisters wouldn't get the life they deserved, and no one in their right mind would ever believe me! I didn't want to try and fight these seemingly masters of manipulation who stole my childhood. No one would ever help me because if my own mother, who birthed me, could not love, protect, or save me, how could twelve strangers in this long drug out trial help me?!

Alas, my sweet vindication seemed like a perfect ending. Over a year of prepping for the trial, five hours on a stand telling strangers the happenings behind closed doors, and a guilty verdict later, Mike was sentenced to 22 years to life in prison. Man I thought I was done with it all, my hands wiped clean of my own monsters. Unfortunately, my mental stability was only beginning to unravel.

Please read part two of "BPD and Me" pre-diagnosis.....

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🎶I want to rot in the walls, under the stairs, and throughout the house on such a Pleasure ave.🎶 . . . . . . . . . . #filter #lyrics #yakima #selfiequeen #selfiesaturday #likesforlikes #musicianslife #musiclife #music #newmusic #singersongwriter #instafollow #instagood #followback #artist #dollsteaks #makeupaddict #selfie #meow #deep #emo #instaselfie #instafam #instafollow #attention #againstme #punk #l4l #ptsdsurviver #ptsdawarness #myjourny #depression #anxiety #bpd #allyouneedislove #spreadthelove #wcw #tattoos #girlswithtattoos

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Tumbler is confusing, but I love to explore this creative forum! 😍❤

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A Wish.

Insomnia and nightmares Will power numbing Please tell me depression is not coming I fight, you fight, we fight together What's so wrong is we feel alone forever Sweet sisters, dear brothers, we are not ashamed, despite what they claim, our brains just don't work the same Survive with me please, I'm down on my knees, one more friend lost from suicide, I just can't breath.

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Yep.

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Sweet Hell

Poop makes the greatest smoothiez! Just what I need on a hot day! It is currently 95° out. Talk about hell *boom-da-tisss*! We all asked for this. We've waited so long. Through dark, dreary, days and ice cold nights we've slumbered, sad and lonely. Alas the summer is here, to join us all in celebration of a desert living. We come out of our shells and unite to bask in the global warming sun. Sweet fruits of our torture, how you quell, these hot summer days in this damned awful hell.

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Me. Myself. You.

People call me vain. I don’t care. I am loud, as well as obnoxious. Twenty three years of my life was spent being silenced. My oppression came from the very people who raised me. I was ravaged of my dreams, raped of my imagination, and silenced.

I am smart. I am strong. I am worthy of my own love.

“Just be silent.”

“Don’t you tell!”

“You’re wasting your time!”

“I will never listen!”

My sadistic mother and the parasite she calls a husband bombarded me. They hushed me all day. I spent eight years like that.  Growing up I was never aloud to express myself. I was silenced. 

I am smart. I am strong. I am worthy of my own love.

Quite literally, I was a meat puppet. In various ways I was used and abused. During a time of detrimental grow in any child or teenager’s life, I was a tool, I was unlovable and I asked for what I got. I was taught that I had no voice. So I became loud.  

I am smart. I am strong. I am worthy of my own love. 

Honestly, I don’t remember how I survived, but I escaped to the audience in my mind. For years I’d day dream about making speeches, singing songs, dancing on stage, doing stand up, and just being heard. I will be heard. I will never spend another moment of my life hushed or silenced! No, I will be heard. 

I am smart. I am strong. I am worthy of my own love. 

I know I am not alone. Statistically speaking, 50% of the women and 30% of the men reading this will understand my journey, will empathize, will love, relate to this. I love you all and want you to know you are not alone. It is not easy, but you deserve bliss in yourself. We can help end rape culture, for all of us. 

You are smart. You are worthy. You are deserving of your love. 

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Depression: A Haiku

Unmotivated. 

Caffeine? Sleep? Get up you slob.

Two days on this couch.