I Also Think.... I Also Write

  As someone diagnosed with BPD around 8 months ago, I still have a lot to learn about my own diagnosis and how it affects the people around me and myself. From anxious attachment style, which steams from abandonment issues to the search for external validation that subsequently goes along with hypersexuality having BPD has made it harder for me to navigate relationships with myself and the people around me. This disorder has caused me to be a furious person who is full of rage all the time. The way BPD has shaped me to see the world in only black and white has made it profoundly difficult for me to understand the grey areas that come along with things in life. For as long as I can remember, I've always been someone who idolized people who I liked and moulded my personality in accordance with their likings. Later in therapy, I learned it was called; Mirroring. Mirroring is when someone with BPD changes their personality, attributes, identity or sense of self, to fit in

  It took us about three weeks to entirely fall for one another. We were practically still kids back then, but for what it was worth, we found each other at a place and time when we needed each other the most. We spent the following year and a half going out on cute little dates, buying flowers, and flooding each other's phones with sweet and corny texts. It was the most fantastic period of my life cause everything I did with him was wonderfully flustering and endearing. He simply felt like serendipity to me. But all I can afford to say now is, It was incredible both falling in and falling out of love with Peter. So this goes out to Peter and me You came along and swept all the woe away with your tender touch For you held me against your chest and made me feel I was enough I felt like a kid, wrapped up around your arms, learning how to walk and talk Your patience felt mellifluous while I simply laid there inert like a lifeless clock We both were lost in the labyrinth of

  Life's uncertainty always baffles me. Last week I had a deeply traumatic experience that I'm still trying to work on. It's funny how the human psyche works cause in my mind, and I'm still trying to comprehend many ways I could have avoided the situation. On the other hand, my perpetrator is probably sunbathing while sipping a cup of tea. Here is a poem that I have been working on ever since then :  (Trigger Warnings:  mentions of sexual assault & violence) Do you carry any shame and guilt for all the horrible things you did to me? Or will I have to carry the burden of being touched by you for the rest of my life? Do you still see people with the same filthy eyes of yours as you did towards me? Or am I the only one struggling to get your perception of me off my body? Were those screams not enough for you to understand I have had enough? Or did you find immense joy in stripping clothes off of my body which I loved for so long Do you wonder how I must have felt when

The education system has failed queer kids all over the world. Private schools, colleges, and universities are best known for excluding queer kids from sports, invalidating a kid’s gender identity, and giving more validity to hetero-normality. For example, ever since I was a kid, I had been taught that marriage should only exist between a man and a woman and anyone who thought otherwise was “wrong.”And growing up in such an environment only made me push my queerness far away. Of course, it is constantly conflicting when one goes through a crisis related to their gender or sexual identity but having to experience that conflict in a homophobic region made it harder for me. It wasn’t until grade 6 that a teacher finally made me feel seen or visible in their class; else, I was always perceived as the kid who was not doing enough to get good grades but having a teacher who believed in me and encouraged me to do better truly made me feel secure and confident in myself. And that t

Having been brought up in a Hindu household, I've always been accustomed to agreeing to be within certain boundaries, whether in my social or personal life. I still remember when I was three years old, my mom took me to Saraswati Mandir in Dabali, which is just 5 minutes away from my home. It was Saraswati puja that day & it also was the very first day when I was taught how to write the Devanagari script, my mom held my hands, and we together wrote: " क,ख, ग " on the walls of the temple. After doing so, we took blessings from the Pandit who was there & went home. For the three-year-old me, it practically meant nothing, and I couldn't comprehend why my mum would take me to a place as sacred as the temple to teach me Devanagari script, and what even was the point of scribbling into the walls? I often stayed in my Mamaghar in my childhood cause both of my parents worked a 9-5 job. On the days when my Aama was free from her household chores, she took

I sigh as I wake up early in the morning, I'm restless, and my body is aching everywhere. As I look into my phone, it's 5:01 am, and the voices of alarm don't seem to stop despite me trying to turn it off. It's such a cold day,  I say to myself as I finally get out of my bed to get ready for college. I do all the mundane tasks, including brushing my teeth, combing my hair, and changing into fresh pair of clothes. It was already 5:30 am, so I rushed out of my home & to my bus stop. While I stood there waiting for the bus, I started thinking about all the places where I had applied my resume last night and counted the probability of me getting in; the chance was zero; of  course, why would any company hire someone who's just passed their high school & has little to no experience.  As soon as the bus arrived, I rushed inside & sat in the cornered seat which was available. I began checking my emails, showing I had no new emails to open. I was dis