Thanksgiving starts in a few hours. There are many things in the kitchen already set up to begin cooking. And here I am at 5:25am, thinking that I have become the worst version of myself. Do you have regrets? I mean everyone has them right? But what if you have a part of your personality that you can’t reign in and get under control? A part of you that is just an absolute monster? It could be a genetic thing, or how you were raised, or it could be mental illness. For me it is all of the above. And the main monster is anger.
I struggle with bipolar. Everyone who reads my blog knows I have it. I struggle with massive highs and crippling lows and I pour my heart out here to whoever will listen. I have been writing a lot because my therapist has been MIA and it has been almost a month since I have seen him. I am working with Seroquel again for the first time in ages, and since I also haven’t seen my psychiatrist in a month, I have been basically fighting this battle alone.
My mother is in really bad shape. I have been writing about it for weeks now, because it is causing me so much stress. With my sister working 70 hours a week and my Dad working our new house totally by himself, the person left to take care of my mom is me. Since my recent med change from Haldol to Seroquel, I have been having a horrible time getting used to it and taking care of myself. The Seroquel is doing what it’s supposed to; it has kept away from flying high in the mania. But my sleep pattern and my spirit is suffering.
I am getting extremely irritable. It could be the side effects, but I think it’s my personality. I sat down this evening and thought about every relationship I have ever had, including friendships. I have pushed away anyone that ever loved me due to my anger. I could say it is the bipolar and I am just unstable, but it is more than that.
You see, my mother is suffering now because my father is an extremely difficult man. She neglected her body and health because she was always working with him running the family business. Then she became ill. My father is domineering, controlling, difficult, stubborn and a complete totalitarian. But most of all, he is incredibly angry. He loses his patience so fast, especially with my mother, and because of that, she was knocking on death’s door.
I picked up the anger from my father. I know this. I also picked up his drive and ambition which had given me great success in life, but it cost me my physical and mental health. I picked up my vulnerability from my mother, which caused me to cower, submit and get walked all over by horrible men I chased after. They were the Alphas in the relationship. But what happens when the tables turn and I become the Alpha and I meet a man who treats me like a princess and wants to take care of me? I become my father and turn into the worst angry version of myself. If I were into BDSM I would be labled a “Switch” I think. Defintiely Dominant, but definitely Submissive.
I gave the Captain hell tonight. He is so kind and loving, and such a gentle, spiritual soul. I lashed out at him in total anger over something so stupid and petty and I saw myself become a total monster. I am under tremendous stress with having to take my mom all over NYC to what seems like endless doctors and tests. I know I have the time on my hands, but I am having enough trouble not falling into a pit of bipolar hell to be there for her. If you suffer with bipolar, it is so difficult to function when you try to take the least amount of medication. I am doing it the hard way with a small dose of Seroquel and Klonopin, where my usual regime used to be at least 10 pills consisting of powerful drugs. I don’t want to take all those because I don’t want to be a zombie. For years, I was so heavily medicated, I didn’t feel human, so I lied my way to a lower dosage and I have been battling the bipolar just enough to keep me out of the hospital. But being human means you have to take on human responsibility. If this was a physical illness not a mental one, I would be trying to go at life walking with one leg instead of two. That’s what it’s been like trying to battle the bipolar on just the bare minimum of pills. I have good days and I have bad. I am trying to keep my spirits high by taking a shower everyday, taking care of my body and trying my best to sleep. So much is weighing on my mind though. As my mom’s health wanes, the future is looking bleak so I know I have to try my hand at working again. The question is, how the fuck do I do this?
With all this pressure weighing on my mind, and running all over the place with my mom, my anger is getting out of control. I am snapping at my mom for being ill, I am short with my best friend, and I am straining my relationship with the Captain. I am my father’s daughter in so many ways, and I am in pain. I want to try to be the hero to everyone, I want to be sexy for my Captain, and I want to be an ear to my best friend who has his own worries with having to change jobs again and his own father’s deteriorating health. I am failing though, and losing myself.
The Captain told me to look to Jesus for answers. I would LOVE to do that. However, with the Seroquel doing its job, my spiritual link is cut and I feel lost. I feel my soul in limbo, and when the tears of pain come and I ask God for help, the cold hard reality of medication come rolling in my mind. I don’t want to be an angry, bitter woman. I have a man who is in deep romantic and sexual love with me, and another man who loves me deep in friendship. I have a wonderful family, that even with their faults, pull it together and take care of me.
In the worst version of myself, I am thinking of blessings and how many I have. As hard as this is, I will pull through. In a few hours my sister is going to start putting together a Thanksgiving meal. Since I have been feeling so shitty, stressed and disconnected I was going to be a Scrooge and not put up the Christmas tree. I think I will put it up though and try my best to keep the Holiday spirit alive in my house even though everyone has troubles and stress on their minds.
I need to let go of the guilt I feel in my heart. I remember when I left home years ago because my father had hit me out of anger and how hurt he was knowing I had gone. After the anger subsides, you have to live with the destruction you leave behind. I can’t help who I am, but I can try to be more mindful and not so extreme. Quitting alcohol hasn’t helped, I used to run to it to help ease my suffering. I feel like I am burning my bipolar candle on both ends with no sign of release. I will make it though, and keep it together by remembering my blessings.
Happy Thanksgiving to you, I hope you remember to give thanks for all that you have, and I promise myself I will to.