I Also Think.... I Also Write

  "Fuck, I need a cigarette" is the first thought I have in my mind when I wake up. Is it the same for you? From the moment I open my eyes, I'm looking for reasons to go outside to hit a puff. It's come to a point where I've recognized myself as a functioning addict, and as shameful as I am to admit this, I think it's for the best.  These days I'm suprised by how people continue to go on days, weeks, months, years, heck, even lives without smoking. The thought of simply having a nicotine-free day is very amusing to me, and the worst part is I have no one but myself to blame when it comes to it. I remember when I deceived myself into thinking I didn't have a nicotine problem and that I was not an addict. But now that I reflect on it, I see someone afraid to admit their dependency on a substance that, in reality, was only harming them back. Despite knowing its risks, I still, to this day, cannot gather the willpower to begin to break free from this addi

Around two months ago, precisely on January 3rd 2023 I tried to kill myself...Looking back on it, I don't think it was an instant decision, but rather a well-thought-out step that I was just afraid to take before. It wasn't just one thing that pushed me to the brink, but a culmination of a lifetime of trauma and suffering. As far as my recollection of memories go, a lot of things contributed to my suicidal thoughts. From constantly being sexualized since the sixth grade to being sexually assaulted eight months ago and getting groomed by three different men when i was a teenager, life hasn't been very fair to me. I used to think that being a "woman" was the reason why I went through all of it in the first place but I was very wrong about it,it was men who were responsible for everything that i had to go through and not a part of me is even remotely liable for everything they did to me.Those moments in my life made me feel unworthy of love, unworthy of respect, and

It's just a phase, I say, lying to myself, taking another drag of the cigarette I've been holding. The nicotine buzz hits me, and I realize I'm no longer the same person. Would Dipta , a few years ago, even think of this as the right thing to do? Perhaps time really changes people; it changed me for the good and the bad. As time faded, the obligations on my shoulders have gotten heavier, and so has this unfulfilling void that always makes me feel empty. I dumped the ashes in an ashtray and sipped on my coffee.   The longer I stared into the smoke that passed out the window, the more I got in-depth with my emotions. Have I always felt this way? Have I always been an empty shell of a skeleton with nothing but the emotions that people around me fill up? Who am I, to begin with? Why am I here, and when will this stop?    Perhaps answering all these questions requires me to strip naked in front of the mirror and point out things that I see as flaws in me since August 8 . It'

  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