Some Days

Some days are joyous.

Some days are numbingly empty.

Some days are full.

Some days are easy.

Some days are a battlefield. 

Some days are peace.

The waves come. They're either gentle, allowing for meditation or play, or they're roiling, threatening to carry me out to the depths. I can see the clouds forming & start bracing myself for what's coming, already wishing for peace.

Always Too ....

Why am I always wrong? You can have friends...makes friend...nope - wrong friend. You can do things...does a thing...nope - wrong thing.

I've never really fit with "normal" society & "normal" things. I mean, yes, having BPD is like being a social chameleon so I appear to fit in. "I want to break free," to quote Queen, but I hear my parents & my husband say "That's not practical." I don't care about practical. I want whimsy, impractical like at least 50%.

I wanna be a hermit hobbit faery.