Living with and overcoming Bipolar and Borderline Personality Disorder
Imperfect we were meant to be, so our flaws he could see.
Each of us made unique, so the Savior we would seek.
I have scars that will never heal, imperfect the make me feel.
No one notices nor cares, that someone’s mark my face bares.
These lesions I hide well, to look you cannot tell.
It’s no birth defect-I am not blemished, with me He is not finished.
Society is like this bunch of candies. All different flavors and packaging. Some of us covered by the blessings of our God. It is up to us to preach of his love and faithfulness. So those that are weak and naked may have the opportunity to be clothed in his redemption and love.
I do believe that a majority of my junk was inherited.. And that life traumas made the diseases progress.
After my parents divorced as a young child I begin stuttering and talking too fast. No amount of speech therapy fixed it. I still do it in anxious situations.
It is amazing how dysfunctional your childhood is, but you don’t realize it until adulthood.
I have a brother that became fanatically religious when I was a child. He and the other brother were in charge of taking care of my younger sister and I while our mother work to support us. NEVER do this people. NOT a good idea.
The religious brother was only trying to do what he saw in God’s eyes was right. But being locked in the closet until you memorize 25 Bible verses was quite ridiculous. He later in his early 20s was diagnosed as paranoid schizophrenic. And he is a very kind and loving soul.
The other brother on the other hand was the complete opposite. I remember a time my eldest brother stomped the others stereo because of the devil music he was playing and chased him through the house to lay hands on him to cast the demons out of him. Finally, The younger brother pretended to be possessed and scared the other terribly. Yep, us girls did not have a fighting chance.
So, eventually the younger of the two boys decided it would be a good idea to practice on his sisters for a girl he was wanting to have sex with. 40 years later I can hear those words like it was yesterday. Every word, every demand, every threat. Until a few years ago I had no idea he practiced differently with my sister.
We never talked about it. my friend in the fifth grade was the only one I ever told. Years went by and coincidentally her daughter and my brothers stepdaughter became friends. Which they thought was leading to a sleepover. NOT. My friend from grade school told her daughter. My brother and I finally talked about it. He has absolutely no recollection whatsoever. It always made me feel better to make an excuse like, “It was drugs or alcohol that made him do it”. Then he informed me he didn’t do drugs didn’t tell me he was sorry he just doesn’t remember. I Do! Every single day of my grown-up life I can picture it like it was yesterday.
I am grateful for the few followers I have. But it’s nice to have a place to vent about this baggage I’ve been caring around for years. And this is just a few of the screwed up things that happened to me as a child. Just wait until I get to the adult stories!
Father, Son and Holy Ghost, you gave your life upon that post.
I had looked far and wide, you were always at my side.
I needed someone to love me, but when blind you cannot see.
In a stable you were born, from this world you were torn.
Sent from heaven you set me free, so that forever you could be.
I will praise your name on high, sending prayers toward the sky.
I will never deny your name, it’s for those like me you came.
With you I can do many things, one day earning my wings.
My prince is alive and well, in his house I will forever dwell.
Jill L. Ware
Our Roses Were Yellow 
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