Ever since I've known me, there's been trauma in my life. My first real memory is being in pre-school and being forced to play mommy and daddy and I don't mean the parts where the mommy just cooks and cleans...furthermore I was playing with a girl. I remember at that age being hyper aware that something was wrong and that I could get caught and could get in trouble. I even remember thinking the teacher won't believe that it wasn't my idea. I think it's interesting how our first memories may be hazy but they're engrained in our minds as the first time the world really opens up to us. You finally see the world as a bigger place with people and things and it's newer than the new you had before. I think there's something to be said for when the new or first memory is a bad one. Of course this will be a piece I continue to write on but as for now I'm just talking to a group of friends about my life.
As you may know, BPD is part nature and part nurture. There's a part of you that is predisposed to this kind of personality due to the genes that you inherit from your parents. Yet there's another part that wakes up those genes based on the environment you grow up in. By genes, my father was a compulsive cheater and even would hit my mother every now and then (granted she was very provoking). My mother is a narcissist and she abused us mentally and physically. My older brother sexually molested me for years (now he claims he doesn't remember any of it although other persons hold the same claim). My point is that I don't know life without trauma or without drama. I always wanted my two younger brothers to be spared and so I was overly parentified and took care of them making sure they got the least of the ill care we received. I tried to be there for them as much as possible.
In my memoir series I'd just like to take the time to say how I felt about these things and what they brought forth. As it stands they brought forth someone creative. I love to draw, sing and write. Unfortunately most of the things I gravitate to are morose and macabre, but so beautiful. I feel that there's a sadness in life that people try to run away from because they're afraid of getting stuck there. Afraid of becoming a victim to the hatred and the bitterness that can come along with the darkness. But I see the beauty. I see the rare black flower that grows up in the midst of a a field of gray. If you've ever watched Schindler's list, they make a point of showing the pink jacket a little Jewish girl is wearing while the whole 4 hour movie is in black and white. That's what I'm like. The ability to see the spot of color in a dark world. So I look forward to this series and getting to know you all better as well. If you have any questions you want me to write on please leave it in the comment section.
Love,
Dat Bahamian Borderline
And remember to follow me on Instagram
@bahamian_borderline
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