It’s almost one AM and I’m up as usual, waiting for my pills to kick in and debating about whether to call my doctor in the morning. As much as I don’t want to, I probably should report that not only have I not come down off my high, I am now also anxious and irritable thanks to some wonderful family drama that took place during dinner at my son’s birthday party, and triggered some behaviors that are not typical of me.
No need to go into any details; suffice it to say that I hate it when people use my illness against me and try to make me feel like I’m even crazier than I am. And I hate the way I acted when the feces collided with the oscillatory ventilating system. I don’t usually jump up from the table, throw my napkin down and drop F-bombs as I run to the ladies’ room, but I did tonight and I’m not proud of it.
On the other hand: is it really TOO much to ask when I am obviously running a little hot, that people not add fuel to the fire by condemning me for deliberately trying to confuse them? I would never do that in a million years—it’s like taking candy from a baby—and to be accused of doing so cut me to the quick. I couldn’t fucking believe it. This, coming from someone who has plenty of issues of their own, INCLUDING some pretty significant memory loss? What the hell?!
This particular family member and I have quite a history, most of which is full of love and good times, but there is also a darker side to the relationship that seems to come roaring out whenever there is some stress or strain. For some reason, my stable moods are great for her, and even my depressive episodes are fine as far as she’s concerned; but just let me get a little ‘high’ and she’s all over me like stink on a bad smell.
Everything I think, say, or do is open to criticism, and seldom do I escape at least one snide remark: “Quiet down, you’re too loud.” “Don’t go there. I don’t want to talk about it.” And most annoyingly, “What’s up YOUR butt today?” when she knows damn well what it is—HER. She acts as though I experience all my emotions in a vacuum and that she has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that I’m about to burst with anxiety and anger.
I keep telling myself that I’m stronger than this. But sometimes I wonder.
One thought on “It’s A Family Affair”
She is often saying you’re trying to confuse her – give her a taste of her own medicine and suggest some cognitive testing – cuz it sounds like the lady is confused all by her own fine self.