01/13/2021 - The Jolted Sway: Borderline Personality Disorder
Written by Elarhyse Welgemoed Morton
Artist unknown. Found on www.google.com/amp/s/applesandtrumpets.wordpress.com/2015/03...
‘I spend every waking moment, shifting back and forth, back and forth alongside the waves of emotions my ship of a brain rides upon day in and day out. Some days, the water is soft and peaceful and with the right amount of breeze, I can keep my little ship sailing for days.
On other days, the water is choppy as the hurricane rounds itself back around over and over, plaguing the same area of sea without an end in sight. Huge waves plunge against my ship, water leaping itself upon the deck, causing me to slip up and lose my balance. I fall.
Throughout the day, I continue to slip on the salt water beneath my feet, grasping for something to cling to so I can ride this out. Most days, however, my emotions dance around like a jolted sway. Emotional whiplash.
Without warning, without hesitation. The water starts calm; suddenly a horrendous storm in the distance races itself to my location on the deep, dark sea. The waves whip around my ship for moments on end, only to suddenly dissipate as the sea returns to clear, calm waters. I take a moment to catch my breath, and after realizing I am safe yet again, I get back on track and continue to sail.
Moments, or even hours later, the storm suddenly appears again, engulfing me into an endless whirlpool as my ship and myself are consumed by the sea. The moment I start to feel like I’m going to drown, I find the will to float up to catch my breath, in hopes that I can survive what feels impossible to survive. My ship is gone. I am able to find scrap wood floating nearby that I can hold onto for dear life, at least until I am rescued. If I am rescued.
My limbs become numb as the day turns to night. The storm has disappeared yet again. I survived. A part of me was grateful to make it through the storm. A part of me was also disappointed that I didn’t meet my timely demise in the vast emptiness of the ocean. I am begging for release.
I can’t cry; I am exhausted from trying to stay afloat for so long. I shiver and shake, my breathing becomes shallow. My eyes begin to close shut; ah, peace at last. Suddenly, I am back on my ship. My eyes shoot open as I see the storm on the horizon. My heart drops into my gut, which twists and turns like worms in freshly precipitated soil. To my dismay, here I am doing this all over again.
The jolted swaying continues onward.’