Was neither up nor down at the start of the day.
I was okay for awhile. Then came some minor cramps, reminding me it is curse week, being uncomfortable made my mood come down significantly. I rode it out. Forced the laughs when he “made” me sit through all these comedy clips on Youtube, only a couple of which I actually found funny. Ya know, being a heavy set girl myself, there’s just nothing hysterical to me about someone singing a song about “your big fat friend.” in reference to picking up hot chicks at a bar. Oh, and the kill a kitten song…SOOOO not funny. My funny bone must be broken.
Mid day, overhearing a phone call in which it became crystal clear how far down I am on the food chain at the shop…My mood plummeted. And that is what we call a trigger. I tried hard not to let it show but the mood dipped so suddenly, and so far down, that I actually had to walk away, go outside, stand in a corner with my head against the wall, fighting back tears, and basically bully myself mentally by pointing out that I am NOT weak, I am NOT wimpy, and I AM in control.
The counselor says this is me failing to regulate my emotions.
I’m not saying she is entirely wrong…But I’ve had reminders like this other days that slid off my back because I wasn’t feeling all fragile and hypersensitive.
Take a woman with cramps and hormonal fluctuations who also (ooops!) forgot to take her mood stabilizer this morning…Being reminded that in spite of all you do you are still in last place behind a slew of users and self centered assholes…is a fucking trigger.
Unlike pre mood stabilizer days, I no longer do the blow ups and tantrums. Instead, I just become very quiet and distant and monosyllabic. Which is not a bad thing compared to the alternative. Yet it was taken note of, and once again I was reminded that no matter how well I do medicating the moods and regulating my emotions…it is never going to be “enough” for the people around me who just don’t get it. Outside of the normal things that affect your mood, like a bad day, illness, etc, they don’t understand why someone’s moods shift willy nilly and it makes them uncomfortable so of course, you must conform and if you cannot, well, then you’re just being difficult.
That makes me feel hateful and defiant. I am not difficult because I have an illness. All I have ever heard about is how hard it is on the people around me, a fact I do not dispute and even empathize and sympathize with. It IS tough. But not once has any one, not one person, ever shown an ounce of the same for me considering they can just walk away from my shit yet I am trapped here. It’s hard not to have a chip on your shoulder when surrounded by insensitive self serving assholes.
The sunshine spewer said I need to find new friends to surround myself with.
Um…I have tried. Unfortunately, this area I live in is not rife with people possessing enough sobriety (POTNATION!) or intelligence to grasp my issues. And trust me, no matter how well I try to keep it all buried deep beneath surface to shelter the weak psyches, it always comes bubbling over. It’s a disorder. If I could control it with will power, I wouldn’t be taking meds that make my hair fall out and give me stomach aches and memory loss and…
Fuck it, maybe the counselor is right. It’s ALL me. I am making excuses, I am failing to regulate my emotions, I am satan.
I’ve tried to find friends on line. It was through one of them I met the donor, actually. See how well that all worked out.
I am not without blame here, but I think she (the sunshine spewer) oversimplifies something that is quite complex. Or maybe I am just insane. Dear God, I used to take comfort in my counselors. The last ten years or so, comfort has not been included in the price of admission. Is this some sort of tough love thing where counselors try to toughen you up by blaming everything on you?
My brain hurts.
I got to thinking that perhaps it is time to enroll in classes and just part ways with R and the shop…But my squealing car brakes serve as a reminder that I need those damn brownie points if I don’t want to be on foot.
I say I can’t do anything right but I am totally wrong.
When it comes to having the mood swing from hell, I am a rock star.
Now…I am going to try to do something, anything, to help me climb out of this abyss. I do not like it here. The dark side promised me cookies and it turns out, they LIED.
I don’t want to be on the dark side anymore.
I want my bloody cookies, demmit!