nerfherder
Active Member
One of my closest friends is bipolar. Friend? Neither of us ever had sisters, she has disowned her highly dysfunctional family (she and her brothers are Korean adoptees for what that's worth) and adopted mine - never misses my mom's birthday if she can help it, visits her more than I do actually. So she is a baby sister who bridges the age gap between me and my easy child, and I am the big sister/functional mother figure who listens to her rant and reassures her that she's not acting crazy, no. My brother's kids treat her like the aunt who's even crazier than I am, and a number of people at my mom's synagogue somehow got the idea that she's my brother's au pair - so part of the family's running gag is her treating him like she is, fake asian accent and all.
Today she posted the following on her blog; I am stripping out any personal identifiers, and starring out the F-bombs. I think it helps with another facet and viewpoint of how someone apparently functional and medication-compliant still struggles every day. The following is not only copied with permission, when I asked if I may share here she expressed the hope (quote) "If I can help other parents manage their children I'm glad to be a resource." She also notes that if there are any specific questions, I can pass them along and she will try to answer them.
Have I mentioned lately how much I hate bipolar?
For all it's done in helping me realize what a strong, confident person I can be, bipolar really f***s up my life a good 50-60% of the time. I'm getting tired of the sleepless nights that I can occasionally feel coming on but I feel helpless to stop. Because sleepless nights turn into days at work where I can't focus and those turn into days where I get into trouble. They also turn into days where when I want to try and sleep off the bipolar delirium I feel guilty for being a lazy a**hole who does nothing but sleep. I also wonder how many of my relationships have gone onto self-destruct because I'm a crazy person to what amounts to basically half of the year.
I love the days where I wander around looking like s*** because I'm death warmed over from no sleep. And part of me hates being fat because I can't enjoy memory foam or a tempur-pedic like a normal human being without overheating like a stuck pig. And I still haven't learned how to take a g*****ed compliment like someone telling me my eyes are beautiful without thinking that there's an agenda behind the compliment. Today I just really hate being myself and I want to crawl out of my skin. And when I get into a mood like this, I go into a spiral of feeling bad about hating myself and it all just goes to f***ing hell.
There's times when I feel like how my mother f***ed me up was tantamount to child-abuse-that-no-one-will-call-child-abuse
Today she posted the following on her blog; I am stripping out any personal identifiers, and starring out the F-bombs. I think it helps with another facet and viewpoint of how someone apparently functional and medication-compliant still struggles every day. The following is not only copied with permission, when I asked if I may share here she expressed the hope (quote) "If I can help other parents manage their children I'm glad to be a resource." She also notes that if there are any specific questions, I can pass them along and she will try to answer them.
Have I mentioned lately how much I hate bipolar?
For all it's done in helping me realize what a strong, confident person I can be, bipolar really f***s up my life a good 50-60% of the time. I'm getting tired of the sleepless nights that I can occasionally feel coming on but I feel helpless to stop. Because sleepless nights turn into days at work where I can't focus and those turn into days where I get into trouble. They also turn into days where when I want to try and sleep off the bipolar delirium I feel guilty for being a lazy a**hole who does nothing but sleep. I also wonder how many of my relationships have gone onto self-destruct because I'm a crazy person to what amounts to basically half of the year.
I love the days where I wander around looking like s*** because I'm death warmed over from no sleep. And part of me hates being fat because I can't enjoy memory foam or a tempur-pedic like a normal human being without overheating like a stuck pig. And I still haven't learned how to take a g*****ed compliment like someone telling me my eyes are beautiful without thinking that there's an agenda behind the compliment. Today I just really hate being myself and I want to crawl out of my skin. And when I get into a mood like this, I go into a spiral of feeling bad about hating myself and it all just goes to f***ing hell.
There's times when I feel like how my mother f***ed me up was tantamount to child-abuse-that-no-one-will-call-child-abuse
because she f***ed with how I see food, how I see myself, how I see how relationships are supposed to work between two grown adults, how I see my accomplishments, how I see a lot of things. Ultimately, it's my destiny to either continue letting these world views control my life or doing a lot of reprogramming that will ultimately have me feeling better in a couple year's time, but I hate being patient about things like this. I want to be a lot skinnier than I am, although I think I am slowly losing weight. I want to be a whole hell of a lot more stable than I am because godd***it I've been medicated for the better part of the last five years. I've come to the conclusion that I will never have a good relationship with my mother, and that kills me, because I miss my brothers and my dad. And unfortunately she is a major impediment to me having a relationship with anyone else. And I feel weird and horrible when I think about taking someone home to meet my family and all I really have to show for family are my good friends. And if I decide to rear children (however they come about), that most likely they will never know their grandmother and possibly their grandfather and uncles on their mother's side because I don't want my mother to f*** up my children like she f***ed me up. They'll get aunts and uncles aplenty that aren't blood related through my good friends, but it kills me to know that in the traditional sense, I will never really have a typical family unit. And that feels like I was robbed of that opportunity twice. So world, please take this long ranty mcrant as a nice f*** you. I will over come all this. Even if it kills me (and it almost did once, so HA). |