Who do I want to be?

I have an assigment for school that’s due May 15th and I have yet to start on it. Mostly because I’m having trouble answering a very big question.

A part of this assignment is to talk about “who” we are and “what” we want to become, what we want to do with our lives. How am I supposed to answer that if I barely know who I am? So you can imagine why I’m stuck at the moment.

One of the major symptoms of Borderline Personality Disorder is not having a sense of self. Having issues with our “self image”. My entire life I have wondered who I really am. Is the real me under all the masks that I wear every day or is the real me the ultimate chameleon? The one constantly putting on a different face, all just to get through the day? And what if I take away all the masks and look at who’s under it? Will I like what I see or will I run away screaming? This is a huge fear of mine, but nonetheless, I am forever on a quest to find and meet this real me. I need to figure this out if I am ever going to answer the “Who do I want to be?” Question. How can I say who I want to be if I don’t know who I am?

This may be the bottle of bubbly speaking or the benzo’s that I took earlier but I feel that I need to figure this out and for real this time.

I am 24 years old and I have no idea who I am or what I want to become. I don’t know what I want to be when I grow up and it’s quite nerve wracking. I feel like I am at that age where I should have it all figured out by now. I have no idea where I want to be 10 years from now, I know nothing and for a control freak it’s like my worst nightmare.

As stated before, I need to figure this out. But how am I going to do that? Let alone before May 15th? Do I just put down some jibber jabber and phone it in or do I really put an effort into it? I may not be a world famous author but I do pride myself on whatever small piece I may write.

At this point I feel like my assignment is going to be a very detailed insight into me and how/what I think. I will just have to be honest and write from there. And in the mean time I am going to have to do a lot of soul searching and try to find out who I am.

If you come across me, somewhere out there, do me a favor and let me know. I’d love to meet the real me, it’s been much too long…

Cheetah, Cheetah, wherefore art thou, Cheetah?

Alive or just breathing?

Hi everyone,

In case anyone was wondering, I’m still here. Still debating with myself whether or not that is a bad or a good thing. Nevertheless, I am still here.

A lot has been going on lately (doesn’t it always?) and I feel like I am slowly, but surely, slipping away into this very dark place, the same place that I was before. I didn’t like that place very much. It was the lowest point of my depression. I would show you just how low but some might perceive those images as “shocking”.

I kinda broke down during one of my therapy sessions 2 weeks ago. It just all came out and it surprised both of us. Mostly my therapist, she’d rarely ever seen me show any emotion/seem vulnerable. I always “flip the switch” and mosey on with my life. I have to flip that switch, I’ve got too many people depending on me, so many responsibilities. I still continue to put others first before thinking about myself, despite being perfectly capable of saying “no”. But it’s honestly like I have no choice. Theoretically, I do, but the fact of the matter remains that I am not the type of person that just walks away from her loved ones and let’s them “figure it out”. Especially when it comes to my Grandma, her own daughter is off roaming the world playing “does your penis fit inside this hole?” With every guy she meets, too busy being a selfish cunt that she doesn’t even take care of her own mother, let alone her children. I am 24 years old, I don’t need her but my younger siblings need a real and proper mother. I do my very best with them and I have been there for them since the moment they were born but I can never be their real mother. Despite the fact that it takes a lot more than just blood to be a real mother.

So here I am, 24 years old, battling a shit load of my own demons and taking care of everyone around me. Everyone but myself. I try to make enough me time whenever I can, but something always comes up. It just does.

My lovely demons are getting worse by the day. Sometimes I feel like I won’t be able to win this battle, I feel like it will rage on within me for the rest of my life. This is not something that I’ve been looking forward to. It really has been getting worse, I start to bounce around like an 8-year-old with ADHD at least four times a week. It’s like there is a bouncy ball filled with a million different thoughts and emotions, bouncing around in my head and it wants to get out but it just keeps bouncing up off the walls, trying to find a way to escape but failing miserably every time.

Let’s just call these moments “attacks”. When this happens I’m not able to concentrate, I’m not able to sit still, I then feel like a storm is raging inside of me and it won’t stop. None of my regular outlets help in these moments. Just this past week it happened three nights. This is more than usual. So you can imagine how frustrating this is for me.

In those moments it honestly feels like I’m going mad, like I’m manic somehow. I have to force myself to find some kind of distraction otherwise I won’t be able to sleep at all and I end up extremely exhausted the next day. Not to mention the fact that when I get these “attacks” that I have to summon up every ounce of self control that I have, in order to resist cutting. Because in those moments a (big) part of me just wants to cut. Like cutting will somehow release the pressure. Imagine having a pressure cooker that is about ready and about to blow if you don’t do something soon. Taking the lid off lets off the pressure and stops it from exploding. Cutting is the equivalent of “taking the lid off” for me. My mind is like a fucking pressure cooker and it’s no fun, I’ll tell you that.

I am honestly quite tired of all of this. And this is just the tip of the fucking iceberg…

There is a quote that I like. I in fact have it hanging on my bedroom wall. It really speaks to me, on so many different levels.

I am only trying to make sense of this war inside of my head

How many of us have ever felt this way? Be it for just a moment or an entire day. Maybe even an entire life time? I often feel like my mind is some kind of book, written in a language that I can’t seem to understand. It makes me feel helpless, if that makes sense at all.

Okay, I would love to continue writing right now but it’s time to “flip the switch”, leave the safety of my bed and start my day.

Wish me luck….


My next piece is coming up soon, I am just currently suffering from FMLitis and am therefore quite blocked. So in the mean time, I managed to throw this one out there, I was thinking about it. Might give you a good laugh!

For those of you that are not familiar with the term “Swirl”.

“Jungle Fever… black people and white people having sex.”
“She’s down with the swirl”

I’m in a funny mood so I thought I’d put this out there. If you’re easily offended or touchy, don’t read this. Lol. Oh and none of this is meant to sound bitter/racist or whatever. It’s just all in good fun. And yes, I’ve had actual white men say these things to me.

I’m gonna call this one: “Things I’ve had white guys say to me and assume about me, without even knowing me”.

1. “Is it true? Do black guys really have huge dicks?”
– Why would you assume that I’ve dated black guys and only black guys?

2. “I hear that black women are wild in bed”
– Oh, are we now? And what do you base this theory on? One of ya boys told you? Just STFU.

3. “Can I touch your hair? It’s fake, isn’t it? Is that what they call a weave?”
– First of all, it’s “may I touch your hair” and no, you may not! So all black women have fake hair huh?

4. “Have you ever been with a white guy before?”
– Yeah, seriously, go right ahead and assume that I have only dated black guys. It must be so!

5. “I’ve always loved black women but they never want me”
– Did you try talking to them? Oh, I guess not eh? You see us and assume that we only date black guys so you don’t even bother and then you go around claiming that we’re not approachable.

6. “I’ve never been with a black woman before but I love black women, always have!”
– Sweetheart, I am not (nor will I ever be) someone’s experiment. Either you’ve been into black women your entire life and you’ve dated only black women, or you haven’t. I am not here so you can say “I had sex with/I dated a black woman”. But hey, since you love us so much, why haven’t you been with any of us? If you love us so much why are you married to a white woman?

Now, I’ve had plenty of conversations with my black female friends that swirl and most of them (if not all) have encountered the exact same thing. So I know I’m not coocoo. Lol. Anyone on here bump into anything similar to this? (or maybe even the exact same thing).

I must say that *my* answers were given from a different perspective. I’ve swirled my entire life. First boyfriend? white Chocolate. First kiss? White Chocolate. First time sex? White Chocolate. Get the picture? I’m not one of those “ermahgerd, I’ve seen the light, I might try swirling” types. Or the ones I REALLY love “I’m tired of dating these broke ass brotha’s, let me try out a white guy”.

This piece was written from a true Swirler’s** perspective. White guys is not an experiment for me, dare I say it’s a way of life?
** This does not mean that this Swirler hasn’t tasted anything other than White Chocolate!