Obviously, when someone is just 99% jerk and has no redeeming quality that can add to your life…You say “go to hell.”
My dilemma is how to deal with people whose “jerk” percentage is fifty fifty and occasionally (and dependent on my mental state) bring more to the table than they take away. Again, dependent on mental state, that 50 percent of jerk sucks the very life out of me and I want to throat punch them.
In an ideal world where mental illness was understood even by the dimmest of bulbs…It would be a simple matter of finding a balance.
Sadly, we live in a world where the very term “mental imbalance” makes people roll their eyes and jump to the conclusion we are all dumb as a box of rocks or lazy and making it up. My psychiatrist has more than once, with great disdain for the world’s collective ignorance, commented on how it amazes him people assume mental illness is exclusive with a lack of intelligence when the opposite is true. Most of us are very intelligent, creative, bright. But because our brains misbehave and we can’t get out a whip or shock stick to get them in line…we’re somehow inferior.
Now to the very point of this post. My nemesis, R.
He called last night, told me to get a pen and paper, and started rattling off all the stuff he wants done at the shop today. AFTER I told him three times I couldn’t make any promises to be there. He just assumed I’d bow down, feel shitty cos he’s done sooo much for me, and kiss the ring. THAT infuriates me.
As the evening passed (and it wasn’t all bad, Spook went to sleep early and I got some wondermous chat room time with Mr M and Sass) my anxiety and agitation with R just built and boiled up. I am growing to hate this man.
But in my current state, am I being rational? I think to an extent I am, because these same feelings have risen over the years even during stable periods. Dealing with a narcissistic who even goes to work with a broken hand and expects nothing less from others…You do reach a point where throttling them sounds appealing.
I have no desire to burn bridges to embers. I just need some time to sort my brain. I started the Wellbutrin and so far, no bad side effects but then, two doses prolly isn’t a good gauge. I just need space, which I asked him for, and his idea of space was to not text me to fetch parts f0r 12 hours.
It escapes my grasp how pretty much EVERY real job I ever had, I’d reach a breaking point and the doctor would write me off for a couple of weeks and the employers would accept it, not penalize me, not berate me, not fire me.
Yes, this guy, who is supposed to be my friend, just expects me to jump through flaming hoops. Without regard to my mental state. Because he’s never truly put much stock in the reality of mental illness or even hormonal imbalances (his insensitivity towards his wife’s menopause makes me want to aim a loaded nail gun at him). I may get lunch or a cheap TV, rebuilt computer, a pack of smokes or gas money for doing his bidding but…
My shrink started tossing out shock treatment as a possible if I don’t improve soon so does it not make sense my priority is my own mental health and avoiding anything that could make it worsen?
Now..Here is where I beg you for YOUR INPUT.
How do you handle McMuggles who think your every mood is irrational and invalidate you and make you feel to blame EVERY single time you try to talk to them?
I am at a loss. I’ve tried so many damn times to reason with this man.
That’s why today while at the library printing out stuff he needs for the shop…I think I will print out a “I resign as whipping boy” type letter, with proper words and such. I will try one more time to discuss it with him like an adult but…20 plus years it’s been an epic fail and the time has come…
I have to do what is best for me because being sane enough to care for my child is worth a hell of a lot more than appeasing this man child.
Too bad he will twist it all and make it about him and how ungrateful I am for failing him. Because he asks so little of me.
Devouring my soul is not asking little.
Let me get back in my right mind and I will not view you as a soul sucking emotional vampire.
But oh, that’s irrational because I am just histrionic.
The jerk ratio seems to tilt toward jerk more than anything now.