Blog, I’m A Terrible Sister

I’m a terrible sister

My sister and I both suffer from bpd and bipolar. Anxiety , depression and whatever else you want to throw in there. For several years now I’ve had to be stronger for her. Handle her with kid gloves you might say. We both have suicidal tendencies. I have attempted twice.

She is my best friend in the whole world. I’ve had a few bad days this week. So she was pointing out to me my bad behavior and my words were,”You have got to be fucking kidding me, you can go 8 months in a row all fucked up and no one says a word because you might go kill yourself and I have a bad two days and you are on me like a fly on shit.”.

And thank God the camera was off at the shop so she couldn’t replay every word I said over and over, she would have killed herself. Was what I said true? Yes! Did I know it would hurt her? Yes! Do I love her? Yes!

I hate these fucking diseases. I told myself over and over in my head to not say anything, there was no stopping me. I was hurting so I wanted to hurt her. She had been doing better, I’m afraid that this might make her progress go backwards. She will play what I said in her head until it makes her feel like a waste of space or a complete failure. How do I know this? We have the same disease. I would do the same thing. All I know is my sister and I have not been over 5 miles away from each other our entire lives. We survived some terrible experiences as children together. We even get sick when either of us goes on trips away from the other. What the hell is wrong with me?

She deserves better than she gets!
Blog, Granddaughters

Granddaughters

What a week it has been. I had my granddaughters most of the week. The four year old has been not feeling well. Apparently her dad told her the other day that she was being rude. So now when we say anything she doesn’t like we are being rude. Children. The six year old I splashed in the pool and she called me a chubby bitch. So, now I’m wondering who she heard call me a fat bitch. She knows fat is a bad word. My mom said that’s just kids she didn’t hear anyone say that about you. I can’t help but wonder. I know Anaya loves me, she is only four. And Adalyn is my buddy. I don’t think she will do it again. It just slipped out! Hmmm! A grandmothers love for her grandchildren is unfaltering!

Poetry

Changed Woman

Let me say this loud and clear,

Don’t always believe of me what you hear.

My mind has been partitioned-rearranged,

Rendering my previous behaviors changed.

Learning to say no and stand my ground,

Hasn’t left many of my so called friends around.

With me that’s absolutely fine,

I truly enjoy alone most of the time.

For those I use to enable,

Feel free to sit at a different table.

Maybe you’ll learn to take care of you,

I have done all I can do.

From here on out I must take care of me,

I am a changed woman, watch and see!

Jill L. Ware

Blog, I could be worse

I could be so much worse

As I sit here getting my chemo treatment, I watch and listen to those around me. I am blessed. There are so many in pain and sick from their treatments. Over the years I see patients come and go. Some are now cancer free others didn’t beat their disease. I really appreciate the life God has given me. The beautiful friends and family that I’ve been blessed to have in my life. Thankful that these treatments are helping my RA remain under control. I can be more active with my grandkids than I was able to be with my sons. I know there may come a day when this treatment no longer works for me, so until then I will enjoy my family and live my life to it’s fullest.

bpd, Poetry

Borderline Personality Disorder

You are a true bitch, changing things at the drop of a hat.

Then the flip of a switch, everything is okay just like that.

When you love it is to the extreme, changing in an instant becoming hateful and mean.

Then you finally feel you belong, only to find you were wrong.

Approval you will always seek, I believe it makes you weak.

Open wounds do not scar, you just want to be loved for who you are.

The pain of the past doesn’t have to last. Talk about it hand it to the savior, the fire is lit changing your behavior.

You may not be as good as before, but a bitch you will be no more.

Jill L. Ware

Poetry

Addiction Is No Racist

Red, yellow, green or blue, She will come after you.

No matter what gender, to her promises you will surrender.

She comes disguised as many things, with her chaos and lies she brings.

Sex, drugs and food to name a few, she will control all you do.

Not much to say you feel depleted, if she has her way you’ll be deleted.

You can tell her to find another, you are someone’s brother.

Hold your head up high, it won’t be easy I can’t lie.

Show her you are stronger than she, forever rehabilitated you will be.

Jill L. Ware