BPD, Identity, Mental health

I am liquid

That’s what I told my GP yesterday, “I can’t because I am liquid.”

She was trying to get to the bottom of my belief structure. But I don’t have a real, robust and tangible belief structure. It is fluid.

What I have is a lifetime of being told what things are and what things I should believe in. But everyone has their own opinion so how can someone like me, who is not yet fully formed, have a fully formed structured set of beliefs?

I have been trained to obedience. I will parrot. I will say what I think you need me to speak for fear of punishment, or being mocked and ridiculed, or bullied or perhaps worst of all, abandoned.

And I will believe, I will have faith but only for as long as I feel safely held.

While there has been a structure to hold me, a cup as it were, to contain the liquid presence that is me I can believe.

But I don’t have a container anymore. I haven’t had a cup for a few years now.

It is strange not being within the confines of a vessel and not as liberating as one would think.

I am wary about being contained once more, for too many chalices have been lined with poison.

So the essence of me now flows, well trickles really. I drip through the cracks in the floorboards and seep under doors. The essence of me no longer sparkles, but is charcoal-hued magenta, leaden in opacity and held together merely by surface tension.

The reality of me is no more.

I am liquid.

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