I saw my counselor the other day, the sunshine spewer.
She told me I waste most of our sessions ranting about the Donor and what’s going on with him.
I told her she makes me feel every time I see her because face it, it’s my time, my dime, and what is going on with him is relevant to my mental well being or unwell being.
I don’t think she’s ever had someone call her on her rather insensitive methods before, she seemed stunned.
It occurred to me perhaps I am too blunt. I tend to open mouth and speak my mind. I try to use tact, like “you look better in solid colors” as opposed to “oh my god stripes make you look like you’re as big as a circus tent!”.
Sometimes, though, usually fueled by mood, I just lay it on the line.
Today, I point blank asked Kenny if he paid rent at the shop because he like, lives there basically.
And R said, “You don’t cut that boy a bit of slack, do you?”
Not when someone agitates me. That is my failing, I suppose, lack of patience with people and the inability to just keep my mouth shut when they piss me off.
Fortunately, Kenny actually seems to appreciate my honesty and is secure enough that it doesn’t make him melt down and send emotional shrapnel flying everywhere,
I’m a bitch. Not a newsflash. I think I have suffered enough utter misery to have earned my right to be a bitch.
And ya know, it all kinda started with Kenny when he began ranting about depression not being a real illness and depressed people are just weak lazy people living off the system.
red alert, red alert, red alert. Claws coming out.
He’s entitled to his feelings sure.
Just as I am entitled to mine, and since he pulls no punches, I sure as hell won’t.
Sometimes, though, I do wonder am I just too blunt? Or is some of it a byproduct of my mood swings? Some days, I am just a seriously angry woman with no clue why.
Especially since starting the Wellbutrin.
Which the counselor says cannot be causing all these side effects.
Even though I read the leaflet the pharmacy gave me and every single thing I am experiencing is listed there.
She’s another one who just pisses me off to no end.
of course, since the lowered dose of Effexor and advent of Wellbutrin, Anger is the state I live in.
My mood is wonky, to say the least.
Mostly, I hate everything and everyone.
I am impatient, irritable, hostile, and a little too quick to be too honest about just how I am feeling.
I should feel bad.
I do not.
Frankly, I don’t want to be surrounded by people who aren’t strong enough to handle the things I say. Weakness brings out the worst in me, it’s like blood in the water and I become a hungry shark looking to feast. I can’t stand weak character in people.
it’s one thing to say, “You really hurt me when you said (that).”
Tis another to whine incessantly about being picked on just because I have an opinion contradictory to your own.
I don’t whine about being picked on. I whine about being taken advantage of.
And that problem has been handled because I spoke up and risked rocking the boat.
People who keep the peace and don’t speak up will forever earn my wrath,
Sorry, it is what it is.
Of course, with my mood swings, you could just as easily catch my wrath simply because it’s Monday or you wore a color that triggered a certain bad memory.
I’m funny that way.
And to some extent, I do feel bad about the mood swings because even I have a tough time handling them. I don’t really feel bad for being too blunt and honest…
But I do feel bad for not being able to keep a mood for more than fifteen minutes. (My counselor thinks I am exaggerating, which shows just how incompetent she is,it’s the very definition of cyclothymia.)
Of course, it’s not exactly my fault, no one asked me if I wanted to be bipolar.
Nonetheless,I do have guilt issues about my moods being so rough on others.
Until next time…