My Curse
My Curse mental illness stories

andiekaeCommunity member
Autoplay OFF  •  a year ago
I struggle with borderline personality disorder and bipolar 1 disorder; this poem captures my inner turmoil.

My Curse

Memories of uncontrolled madness, notions of everlasting sadness, wickedly begin to twirl. Resonating remorse for lapsing, from a weakened resolve collapsing, violently continues to swirl.

Sheer terror sinks in, an insidious poison within, while consequences inevitably unfurl. Desperate cries for redemption, attempts to relieve inflicted tension, as my clenched fists slowly uncurl.

Realization of reality, my lack of empathy or morality, leads to sobering and painful regret. Mindless, miserable mistakes, of fierce emotional outbreaks, confine me like a burdensome net.

Paranoia distorts what I see, shame parasitically consumes me, while I begin to neurotically fret. Chaos and strife, a soured quality of life, my behaviors will surely beget.

Rage and violence, the vicious death of calm silence, abruptly strikes without a reason. The monster fiercely comes and goes, my polarity blatantly shows, like the swift changing of a season.

It annihilates my morals, the burning of hard-earned laurels, a self-sabotaging treason. Creating a dreary pit of solitude, for me to solemnly brood, and forcefully bury bent knees in.

I tend to betray, masochistically and mercilessly flay, everything I've ever dreamed to believe. I'm a paradoxical paradigm, lacking rhythm or rhyme, entirely impossible to conceive.

My tumultuous personality, a pure lack of functionality, is all that I've ever perceived. Consistency, I've sought, my time tirelessly wrought, in hopes stability will eventually be achieved.

The necessity of being medicated, to be likeable and calculated, strikes me with unbearable pain. My attempts to be “normal”, to appear and behave formal, are futilely lived out in vain.

The monster I am, my lack of giving a damn, I can't comprehend or explain. Viciously clawing at sanity, angrily stifling profanity, I'm slowly going insane.

Society cannot witness this, watch me struggle, remiss, so I wear a deceptive mask. Presenting a smile, boldly treading another mile - it's not an easy task.

What goes on in my mind, when I finally unwind, I hope they never ask. In a façade of bullshit jubilance, an endless pool of exuberance, forever, they will bask.

One day I'm kind and loving, the next, aggressive and shoving, much like a slap to their face. The pain and fear I strike in their heart, when I maliciously tear them apart, I wish I could completely erase.

The redundancy of pleading forgiveness, while fighting impulsiveness, becomes a never-ending chase. The psychotic antics of my mind, the habits to which I bind, I wish I could easily replace.

I wish my words and actions, my responses and reactions, were deliberately, methodically arranged. Perhaps one day, I will find a way, I would be permanently changed.

Hopefully sooner than later, for if I continue like a dictator, from loved ones, I will be estranged. My happiness for their sanity, their escape from my inhumanity, I guess it's a logical exchange.

In self-inflicted isolation, I punish myself with mutilation, I self-loathingly bleed and I cry. The urge to leave this world, to free loved ones from cruelty hurled…I feel that my life is a lie.

Bound by warped schemas and vices, each bearing steep prices, they slowly turn my life awry. Still, I continue to fight the darkness, to prove I'm not heartless; my demons, I will eventually defy.

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