The Blueprint Of My Mind…

I have mapped the circuitry, charted the pane,
A clinical study of self in the brain.
Not poetry draped in a soft, pretty veil,
But data and systems that refuse to fail.

My BPD sparks with an instant design,
A lightning fast shift on a binary line.
The splitting, the void, and the preemptive shove,
The tactical error of trusting in love.
The rage and the impulse that happen so fast,
Before the decision is compiled or past.

And running right through it, the OCD code,
The rigid commander that plots out the road.
I know the compulsions are useless, but still,
It drives compliance with absolute will. 
The rituals executed precise and correct,
Though intellect confirms they do not protect. 

The willpower fires with a formidable force,
Unwilling to bend or to alter its course.
It demands total execution at first,
With zero-sum margins to handle the worst.
The ledger of errors demands instant pay,
With penance routines traced out through the day.

Calculating the output, evaluating stress,
Rejecting the random, unpredictable mess. 
Dismissing the sudden demands from outside,
Where logic finds nowhere to anchor or hide.
Refusing to gamble where no rules apply,
It severs the connection and lets it die.

With BPD storms and OCD control,
The patterns embed in the core of the soul.
The two forces lock, and they power each other,
Or they fight for dominance over one another. 
High emotion meets rationality, unyielding and cold,
A ruthless survival machine taking hold.

Then dissociation steps in to process the wake,
A heavyset buffer for system-wide ache.
It dampens the BPD spikes in their might,
Yet freezes the archive across its whole site. 
The memories sit like glass frames on a shelf,
The history logged, but divorced from the self. 
An empty shelled book stripped of feeling and heart,
Where past events happen to someone apart.

Yet sharply aware of the gears in the chest,
The code written blueprint surviving the test.
A masterclass built from the structural base,
Of a mind that engineered its own saving grace. 

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