CPTSD/Disorders of extreme stress not otherwise specified

I wrote this poem about what it feels like living with dissociative PTSD (BPD) from childhood that comes and goes. On top of my CPTSD. CPTSD was a label created for abused women with BPD and a history of prolonged trauma with PTSD attacks. Basically everything I experienced – unfortunately, NHS Highland refused me trauma therapy which I know can heal me. Instead, they want to kill me. For reasons I have no idea. They should really know original BPD is caused by psychological abuse.

But anyway… here’s the poem.

In the depths of silence

You’re internally blamed

For emotional manipulation

That left you filled with shame.

They label, they taunt,

They hate, they haunt.

Your voice becomes dead,

You’re now filled with dread.

In the heat of the moment,

You fuel the inner fire,

To fight for your needs,

But you’re always called a liar.

They smirk, they laugh,

They lurk, they draft,

Your trauma becomes a weapon,

Your mind screams to go to heaven.

Dissociation is peace,

But so is ignorance,

You’re blamed for the abuse,

Of past emotional and sexual violence.

The child within you,

Flashes back to fear,

But you’re already dead,

So you have to disappear.