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On reading my own blog I find it difficult; it is so full of pain and suffering but that is only one part of my life

I have been reading over my own blog and I have found it difficult and I wonder whether I give an accurate representation of my life.

I write posts about my bipolar disorder, borderline personality disorder, my trauma and my suicidal thoughts and yet throughout all of this I find that I am still able to be happy and have good times with my friends and family even throughout the pain.

Ever since I’ve been on sodium valproate I have stopped rapid cycling so much and I have stopped feeling so emotional, intense and unable to cope with life; I’m getting better.

Yes I cry sometimes like anyone but I am no longer crying every single day and oscillating from bipolar mood swing in one day.

Yes I still get suicidal sometimes but I am reaching out for help now and not overdosing again like in mid-September.

I am coming out of a severe depression, I’ve stopped drinking so much and I’ve stopped taking drugs and now the only bad thing I do is smoke or smoke shisha. I very rarely even self harm now.

I feel like things are getting better for me and I am learning that I can’t do everything I want to do like take drugs and drink to excess because of my condition.

I still have bad days and recently as I’ve cut down on my substance abuse I’ve been feeling upset about my rapes but I can work on this with my new therapist to come and I am so thankful to have a fulfilled life with so many great friends and a supportive father and a great sister.

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creative writing, Poème, Poemas, Poems, Poesia, Poetry, Rape, sexual assault, Uncategorized

So much has changed in one year and yet it hasn’t

Holding it all together
When inside I’m dying inside.

Daggers pierce my heart again
And I remind myself it is okay to feel this pain,
It’s okay not to be okay.

So much has changed in one year and yet it hasn’t.
Copyright © Electra Rose January 2016

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art, creative writing, Mental Health, mental illness, Poème, Poemas, Poems, Poesia, Poetry, ptsd, Rape, sexual assault, Sexual Violence, Uncategorized

I want someone to tell me it will be okay

I want someone to tell me it will be okay
But it can’t ever be with pain under the surface
Of my life.

My body reminds me of my rape.
Of his violent body forcing itself inside
Mine.

I now bravely wear the dress I wore that day
And the bra
And I feel powerful.
But nothing can undo what he did to me,
What he took from me.

There are times I wish I could live a normal life.
Not worry that a man is going to fast
And needs to slow down.
Not feel that all men could potentially rape.
But how can I?

Instead I live this beautiful lie.
The lie that he didn’t ruin me with his act
That I’m not staying away from the axe.

Copyright © Electra Rose January 2016

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art, creative writing, Mental Health, mental illness, Poème, Poems, Poesia, Poetry, ptsd, Rape, sexual assault, Sexual Violence, Uncategorized

Shisha calms my bones

Blood in my blunt nails
Each time it feels I’ve failed-

Lost self, lost night, lost life.
But Shisha stopped me bleeding so much tonight.

Shisha calmed my bones.
It took me home
To a tranquil place
Where I was safe.

To stop the bleeding it seems
You have to give in to other indulgences,
Other sins.
I have too much pain stored in my bones
To cope all on my own.
My trauma doesn’t live in my mind anymore
But it’s still stuck in my bones.
I need some release,
I need some calming shisha,
A cigarette or two.
At least that isn’t as bad as subtly making myself bleed.
Copyright © Electra Rose January 2016

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art, Bipolar, bipolar disorder, creative writing, Mental Health, mental illness, Poème, Poemas, Poems, Poesia, Poetry, Uncategorized

Euphoric bliss

I crave
The sweetest hit-
It takes me to my solitary bedroom rave.
I ignore the clock’s tick
When euphoric bliss
Hits me.

I dance in the street,
Sway my hair,
Tap my feet,
I don’t care!

Confidence, mischief, hilarity
Engulfs me,
Transforms me,
Becomes me.
Music,
Art,
People
Are so beautiful.
Everything is beautiful.

The best moments of my entire life
Spent grooving and singing along to Bob Marley and Destiny’s Child classics
With my best friend on a Thursday afternoon

Ecstatic energy floods through my veins.
Exists no pain.

Words on paper drip beautifully like blood
From the depths of my soul.

This is what it means to be alive.

Copyright © Electra Rose January 2016

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