Thanskgiving was bearable, barely. It’s just always been awkward for me, surrounded by people I am supposed to relate to simply because we’re related. It doesn’t work that way. I’m the oddball of the family, and expecting them to get me is just ridiculous. But no fights broke out, that was good. I just felt like my skin was crawling off my bones. Couldn’t wait to get out. I did however amuse myself by telling my lesbian-phobic mom something. She commented that maybe one day I would find a good dad for my kid…And I said “Or she could get have two mommies, the men aren’t impressing me anymore.”
The look on her face was sooooo worth it. I’m a troll that way. Besides. My mind has become so open I’d hook up with a Monster High doll if it made me happy.(Goth chicks are kind of hot.)
Woke to a text this morning. R informing me a customer needed my assistance. I texted back reminding him that he fired me. And he said “I’m trying to help you, moron.” Which would offend most and yet it made me smile. I get honesty and I can be a moron. In all fairness though, I set the wifi network up for the customer so it made sense he would request me.
I went. I couldn’t figure it out. I freaked out. Finally got it. Left feeling pretty damn good, got the things we needed, came home.
Another text from R. I didnt hear it cos it was on vibrate so he called. The customer I helped this morning referred his brother to me with help with his computer, so we have an appointment Tuesday.
The first time I did ok. That second one, just calling to talk to a person I didnt know…That took a Xanax to work up the nerve and force down the panic attack to make the call. I don’t think anyone has a clue what it’s like to have anxiety so bad you’re paralyzed making a simple phone call. It sounds asinine, and I would probably think that, if I hadn’t spent the last 30 of my 40 years living it. It’s vicious.
I got my meds filled. I am on a Cymbalta manic high from hell right now. It’s beautiful. It’s disconcerting. It beats the fuck out of being an irritable depressed lump. My kid has had company today and I have actually been playing with them and not flying off the handle. One week back on the stuff and it’s already made a difference. Again not something anyone can understand unless they’ve been there.
And that is where the social distortion enters. I know the party line is, “Well, no one can stand you, you can’t maintain a relationship, and the common factor is you.” I don’t dispute there is much wrong with me and I can be my own worst enemy at times. But at the same time, so much of my life is spent in flux due to the ever shifting bipolar and the panic and whether the meds are working…I never know who I will be when I wake up, and people expect me to be solid and stable. No wonder it all goes to shit.I can’t manage the impossible and being expected to is ridiculous when they’ve all been warned that this is what I have to contend with. They view it as some fatal character flaw. and with that mentality, they’re the ones dooming me. Refusing to face that this is a legitimate disorder is the crippling factor and it’s done to me.
Not that I am playing victim. I am a roller coaster ride from hell. I self isolate to protect people from it, too. But no one protects me from it. No one can. How can you ever adapt to society if society won’t accommodate you? It’s a losing battle.
And I fear my mental issues are getting worse. I chastised my kid yesterday for losing the different coat someone had given her…And later realized…They hadn’t actually given her the coat yet, they’d mentioned it in a phone call. And I got it all confused. SCARY.
This morning I did something…And had no recollection of having done it a minute later.
Strange days. I’m a little scared. But who do I have to turn to aside from Bex and this blog?
Frankly there’s nothing that can be done. Take the meds and try to survive and hope it gets better. That’s my only course of action. I’m too functional to warrant a hospital stay. Apparently too dysfunctional to even maintain a friendship or unpaid internship.
Even in my insanity I do not belong anywhere.
I’d boohoo about it but instead, I think I will just listen to some really obnoxious music. That always cheers me up. And I suppose I should eat.5 pizza flavored Pringles chips apparently not filling.
I am so sick of being told about how disappointing, difficult, and what a failure I am.
Just once I wish someone would say, “In spite of how messed up she is, she is still trying so hard…”
And monkeys might fly out of my butt.