Daily Archives: September 26, 2012

How Fragile We Are, Mid-Afternoon Mental Moment

Life is funny sometimes, sometimes it is just what we expect it to be but even when it goes the way it is supposed to it can pack a wallop we may not be ready for.   How is that possible to go as expected yet still surprise us and leave us breathless and stunned, … Continue reading

I think my therapist is broken

(Quick recap to segue into current rant: stepmonster went into convenience store where The Donor works, he approached her, and asked her to “talk some sense into Niki and get her to sign the divorce papers”. Then they had a nice 15 minute convo about how he is doing all of this for his daughter(yet he never asked once about her,if she was even still alive.)

(So I called him at work and got the same old “you made me feel like shit every single day for three years” speech, plus he had to live in the store for three months til he got the money for a place and he didn’t leave me for another woman but he is dating and living with someone now and he got demoted and only gets 28 hours a week so if spook needs anything, email him or leave a message at the store and he will TRY to help but he has bills too.)

Commence vomiting.

I was a trainwreck. He knew which buttons to push to cause the most damage, R and his wife had to come over because I was in such a state of chaos.

He still thinks NOTHING was his fault. NOTHING. Even him not paying any support or calling to check on his kid is my fault for waiting so long to file support papers.

I offered to let him see her any time, and he said no, after everything is settled then he will give me his number and we can work out the visitation thing.

Incensed didn’t begin to cover it.

I was nearly suicidal all weekend.

Told my stepmom I thought she was wrong to go into his store when there are 15 others in town, and she was even more wrong to talk to him that long, telling him how her and dad have basically been supporting Spook when other than helping with car repairs and occasionally some diapers, I am supporting my kid.

She hung up on me.

I had to eat crow and apologize to get the family equilibrium back. God knows she could never ever be in the wrong. Even the counselor says my family is wrong to always go into his store.

I thought he was wayyy out of line approaching her with a matter that concerns us only.

Counselor said my stepmother was in the wrong and the Donor did nothing wrong.

Which seems to be the case in everything, he walked out on his kid but everything is my fault.

I was even ordered to stop calling him a deadbeat on line. (Why the fuck is he reading my blog if he can’t even call to check on his kid? And I don’t use real names or locations and no one local even knows I have blogs,wtf?)

Anyway…Got an emergency appt with the counselor yesterday.

Other than feeling relieved to vent and her assuring me not signing the papers is the right thing to do…I walked out actually feeling shittier about myself.

She says the mood swings I am having are not to do with the bipolar but are actually my own inability to manage and control my own emotions and triggers.

I admit this is all stressing me out, and it does affect my mood, but even prior to this latest debacle, I was having the angry moods and the burst into tears moods. I am entering Seasonal Affect territory, and there are days I really do think about dying a little too much. Yet it is usually without any direct cause other than something wrong in my brain giving me ideas that make no sense. Which has been happening a lot the last three years, my brain has never really been the same since the pregnancy and all. It’s so bad, I have kept much to myself, not revealing in this blog or even to a doctor or friend just how distorted the ideas in my head have been.

The fact that I am able to combat the distorted thoughts with logic kind of indicates a certain level of emotional control, I would say.

The counselor actually laughed at me-not a chuckle, an uproarious out loud echoeing off walls laugh, when I told her i had hoped in the past year the Donor might have grown up a little and come around a bit.

That made me feel stellar.

Perhaps I am naive. Perhaps I am unrealistic.

But having hope is not something that should be mocked that coldly.

And while she validated my concerns towards the paperwork he is pressuring me to sign,telling me under no circumstances to sign anything until he has a case number filed with the court…

She also made me feel as shitty about myself as he did.

She didn’t mean to, I am sure.

I am just beginning to question whether some of my depression stems from having a counselor I don’t feel all that connected to or comfortable with. Sometimes, the way she laughs and her condescending tone make me feel like she is mocking me.

I keep pondering if I am just being bratty because she is saying things I don’t want to hear…

But I don’t believe so, because I have had a couple of counselors who didn’t handle me with kid gloves but I left my sessions feeling strong and looking forward to the next one.

I don’t have that here.

Is it possible her approach is really just not healthy for me?

Is she broken?

Am I just beyond hope?

More often than not, I feel hopeless.

The Donor gets to walk out, not pay  a dime, blame me, then get a demotion and his hours cut so even if he does have to pay,it wont be more than fifty bucks a month and I have to let him see a kid who has no clue who he is.

It is depressing.

Rewarding him for abandoning his kid.

Punishing me when all I have ever tried to do is right by my child.

Maybe I am just bitter and depressed over it all, maybe I’m not even bipolar at all. Maybe The Donor was right and everything is just me having a rotten personality.

My gut tells me no.

Even R, who broke up with me, admits now that I have grown up so much and he enjoys my company a lot because I’m not the same person I used to be.

I’m not fixed, or perfect, but I have grown.

It counts.

I guess.

I dunno.

I’m ready for bed, thinking this much makes my brain hurt.

And is giving me panic attacks.

FUCK