I hide between layers of darkness and grime
The soot-black air rasping through my lungs
among the smoke and ash
There I find my home

If there were a breeze
to cleanse away the pollution in my mind
oh, what relief would be had
and perhaps I would be saved

I lay my rags upon the ground
and sink my face, guilt and shame
into the grit and dirt below me
as the wind howls over my bones

There is no saving or comfort
for the likes such as I
who perish in the storm whipping up
My shadow is all that remains of me.

The Visitor

I know the sun is shining, and the blossom in full bloom

But an air of deep depression permeates this room

The ‘black dog’, Churchill called it; I can understand just why

It’s by no means unfamiliar; a common passer-by

It’s not a welcome visitor, nor did it ask permission

To come and lodge a while, so I eye it with suspicion

It has visited before, this dark presence in my brain

Oh, how I bid it leave me and not return again.

Dissociative Healing

Image by Ulrike Leone from Pixabay

The past came back to haunt me yesterday
I thought I was over all that
It suddenly came flooding back
When opposite my counsellor, I sat

I cried a river of tears
As I remembered the sickening pain
I didn’t want to go back to that place
To experience everything again

The adult within me departed
Although I was sat in my seat
I could feel myself drifting away
As my heart skipped its regular beat

My thoughts were transported elsewhere
To a time so long ago
The world seemed unreal as time transposed
My agony completely on show

I had gone somewhere else in my mind
Somewhere distant and safe
I couldn’t be touched from where I was hidden
As I became the child, the waif

Gradually soft words broke through
It’s okay, you’re secure, you’re here
The voice, far away, waited patiently
Till the muffled speech became clear

Her voice brought me back to the room
My head cleared as she reached out her hand
The fear left and the pain abated
As I began to understand

My adult returned; it was time to go
Slowly, I walked to the door
I thanked her and smiled as the sun shone in
For I knew I was healing for sure.





broken soul

There once was hope, when I was whole
but shattered now, I lie with you
My dreams are but a breath away
in cloud so high, sky deepest blue

  Reflections of my inner soul
are fragments scattered on the ground
These shards of glass that glisten so
when depths within my mind are found

My heartbeat slows like tidal ebb
It scolds me while my world is bleak
and forms a map in front of me
paved with ashes; words unique

  Broken pieces; shadow sought
Thoughts flow fast but mind so scarred
where once I was; I am no more
Dust to dust; I’ve fallen hard


explosion mind

I am waiting for an explosion
But I don’t know when it’ll be
Somehow I have to be ready
But I don’t have the strategy

I’m dreading the mess it will make
Of both my body and mind
Because when the explosion comes
They’ll be nothing left behind

I’m holding a hand grenade
And haven’t yet pulled the pin
But when it blows, it will release
The tumult and chaos within

I don’t think I can cope with more
It’s becoming too much of a strain
It’s messing with my head
And eating away at my brain

A hand grenade is dangerous
Armies use them in war
I’m standing here holding it gingerly
I feel I can’t take any more

I can feel the grenade rumbling
I can hear the tick of a clock
Counting down the minutes
I can’t avoid the stumbling blocks

I am poised here, anxiously waiting
And really don’t think I can cope
I am sweating and terribly frightened
I am losing my grip on hope

In angst, I watch the grenade
I haven’t yet pulled the pin
But I know that it’s not a dud
This device is genuine

I cannot preserve my life
To learn how to simply enjoy
Because this grenade I’m holding
Is set and primed to destroy

At my birth, already a risk
Due to persistent lack of affection
It was always destined to be this way
No matter how much circumspection

The tick, tick, tick of the clock
Any minute it threatens to blow
It’s going to cause total destruction
My lifespan was set long ago.

© Copyright Elliesofia: 2016


I am really not good today at all. I needed to write this morning. I wrote this in a Word document so please excuse its length and layout as I have copied and pasted my writing here because I am desperate to get out of the spaghetti in my head, the madness of my mind.

the madness of my mind


My feelings are totally out of control this morning – so much so that I needed to write them down.

I have a knot in my stomach the size of a football. I feel completely overcome by my BPD in that my impulsivity and mood changes have got totally out of control and are wreaking havoc all over the place.

I no longer know my own mind and I wake with fear in my heart because I can barely remember yesterday because I was so high. Today, I’m not – I’ve sunk like a battleship shot down out at sea. My mood is desperately low – almost at rock bottom with no cause and to the extent that I feel like taking a lot of medication and just going to sleep and not waking up because I can’t cope with everything being so out of control and the consequences of my actions.

I wear a mask, big time. I am a fraud, I am a liar, I am a trickster, I am not to be trusted, and I am evil. People think I’m this sweet natured, kind woman and I do try, genuinely to be kind to people and treat others as I would like to be treated myself. But underneath all that is this scheming, selfish, self-indulgent, irresponsible, not to be trusted person. Preferably, I am not to be touched by a bargepole. I should be locked up in a cage until the wildness in me stills a bit.

I am like a stormy day after a rainbow. Yesterday, I had the most wonderful day with church in the morning which set me up for the day. Then I had lunch with Becky, awkward at first but then we soon fell in love again as soul sisters and my thoughts and imagination soared to the unrealistic, ridiculous, impulsive, high-as-a-kite, chancing the ‘impossible’ and taking on challenges far outside my reach and yesterday, I was so convinced I was ‘me’. ‘Me’ transformed myself into Becky’s shadow and took on her characteristics and mannerisms – I blended in with her, with her enthusiasm for where we were going, what we were doing, how we ate, how we drank a cup of tea. I just wasn’t in control. I had blended into Becky’s personality. Where was I? And who is ‘me’. I don’t exist or at least I wish I didn’t. I just want to be a figment of my imagination that will float away in the breeze to nothingness.

My heart is so low this morning – it is in my belly, in my toes, leaking out of the bottom of my feet and desperately trying to evaporate into nothingness.

My carer is due any minute. I must get my ‘front’ ready to put on, my mask once again. To hear myself saying what a wonderful day I had yesterday when truly, that was not me. My spirit of reality had been flying like a kite then but that was not the real me. Who is the real me? I am a nothingness, a fake, a-should-be non-existent, failing, entity.

Now, I find myself writing this rubbish! Now, Debbie is due to come any second – can I get my mask on today? Will I see her walk through the door, smile, say good morning, and give her a long-time-no-see sort of hug although it’s only been since yesterday morning when I was someone else who I can barely recall. I am lost in my head.

I have the ‘door people’ and the shopping coming between 10 – 11am and I have to be real and ok and normal (what is normal? It doesn’t exist on my planet) when I really want to curl up and disappear inside of myself like a snail retreating into his shell after being startled and rocking in the world when really I am not there at all. I want to die. Right now, I wish I was dead so I didn’t have these wild, impulsive, desperately emotional, uncontrollable thoughts.

OMG. Debbie is here. Get the front ready. Get the armour on. Get the smile out, polished and gleaming.


Dense black mucous

seeps through every pore

of my scarred skin

through every hair follicle

coating each strand thickly

A river of hot bitumen floods

my veins and arteries

I cannot breathe with

my lungs as sponges

suffocated by filthy grime

reaching my heart

filling it with sticky tar

My brain is flushed with soot

My mind is black

All has ceased


black leaf