The Fallout

Well, normal was nice while it lasted…..

Actually, I haven’t slipped into a depression so much as I’m still upset about what has happened, and certainly rueful over my response to it. I also realize that overmedicating took away the pain for only a night, and that the problem itself still exists. Wasn’t that the thing I’ve spent the last twenty-two years figuring out? Damn.

I am NOT looking forward to discussing this with my pdoc next Monday. Even though I didn’t technically violate abstinence—I didn’t drink, after all—the intent (and the result) was the same, and for that I am deeply ashamed. Over two decades of complete sobriety, and I blew it over a stupid Facebook post that should never have seen the light of day. WTF was I thinking??!

The fact that it was put out there by someone I never suspected would stoop to such a despicable act doesn’t excuse what I did. People get slammed and have their weaknesses aired on social media every day; it’s not worth the self-flagellation I’m doing to assuage my guilt over scaring my family. I have to move on and learn from this.

I also have to barricade myself from further injury, even though the offender is someone I trusted implicitly. But one of my saving graces is a strong self-protective instinct formed early in childhood, during which I was emotionally abused by a mother who I’ve come to believe was every bit as bipolar as I.

Although I love heartily and unconditionally, I’ve always reserved a little room in my soul that’s just for me, and that’s where I go to protect myself when I’m wounded. Every now and again the walls of this room weaken somewhat, and a few of the slings and arrows life throws at me begin to penetrate them; now it’s time to work on reinforcing them. And I can’t do that if there’s a civil war going on between my addictive personality and my best self.

So it’s time to put away the guilt and begin anew. As the saying goes, Forgiveness is the fragrance the violet sheds on the heel that crushed it. I’ll start the process by confessing to my doctor and my priest, and then I will forgive—both the person who injured me, and myself as well.

But it will be a long time before I trust either of us again.

Published by bpnurse

I'm a retired registered nurse and writer who also happens to be street-rat crazy, if the DSM-IV.....oops, 5---is to be believed. I was diagnosed with bipolar I disorder at the age of 55, and am still sorting through the ashes of the flaming garbage pile that my life had become. Here, I'll share the lumps and bumps of a late-life journey toward sanity.... along with some rants, gripes, sour grapes and good old-fashioned whining from time to time. It's not easy being bipolar in a unipolar world; let's figure it out together.

2 thoughts on “The Fallout

  1. Marla, it sounds like someone you trusted did a dirty deed! You are a beautiful soul inside and out. Forgive yes, but the offender must earn your trust again. Be very careful about letting that person get inside your mind, heart and soul again. You will be just fine putting some distance between you and that person. Remember, ALL is in God’s plan and timing and meant for your spiritual and mental growth. You are okay!

    Liked by 1 person

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