Rough Patch

One pill makes you larger and one pill makes you small. And the ones that Mother gives you, don’t do anything at all.

I’m in the middle of a rough patch. I’m not sure what to do. If I go in to a Hospital it won’t help and I’ll have a big bill. I will sit there for 72 hours while several different people ask me how I’m feeling, give me my medications, and give me Benadryl to sleep. I will see a Doctor maybe 1 time. He’ll repeat the question of how I’m feeling and never be seen again. They will tell me to follow up with my usual Doctor. 55cb1709e5e84e324ac12388cd821b8f

I really just want to move to Florida. At least when I was down there my Aunt called me on her lunch break and when she got out of work. She made sure I was ok and didn’t feel lonely. When I had to stay with her for a few days she seemed happier with me there. She’s like my mom. My mom was happiest when she felt useful. When her children were grown and my dad was obsessed with his hobbies is when she started to deteriorate. My Aunt’s children hadn’t called her the entire time I was there. When her daughter stopped by the day before I was to leave my Aunt asked why she hadn’t heard from her. My cousin said she figured because I was there they didn’t need to call her.

I have to say I was a little pissed at that. My Aunt’s children and my Aunt’s siblings that live in Florida have no problem calling her when they when want something. She isn’t a young woman. She’s 69 years old and has had Gastric Bypass. There were complications with Gastric Bypass and over the years she’s had to have a few surgeries and has gained some of the weight back. She’s still one of the most active people I know. She shouldn’t be doing most of the things they ask of her.

She has cleaned out entire apartments, painted the walls, decorated, put up wallpaper, and shelving. She has pulled out old mildewed carpeting and ripped up floors. Some of these things are just outrageous. I personally don’t think any 69 year old person who has been working all of their lives should have to continue working a full time job just to make ends meet. She has raised a family, made sure she kept a perfect home for a husband that didn’t appreciate her, and took care of his ill mother. On top of that working herself.

I watch my father struggle to pay property taxes and other bills. I pay the cable, phone, Internet, and Electric. I also put money in towards the water bill. It’s high because of the 300 birds outside. They have their own water system and have to be watered at least twice a day in the winter and three times a day in the summer. They also have their own electricity which includes heat lamps so I’m paying for that. My siblings think I have it easy living at home. If they knew what my father would be spending on the birds outside if I wasn’t paying they would have a fit. I also buy toilet paper, paper towels, and all cleaning products. It isn’t easy. I haven’t kept receipts because it’s my dad and I live there too. I just have a feeling that all of this might be questioned in the future.

These are also some of the reasons I have not taken the steps to move out. Besides the fact that I’m chickenshit and I don’t want to be alone. I’m kind of alone now anyway. I’m also being startled and yelled at when he does realize I’m here. I can’t win. It’s all so confusing. I have no one to talk to that won’t immediately ask about my medications or tell me I need a better Therapist or a different kind of Therapy. I don’t want to bother my Aunt.

Sometimes I talk myself into believing I’ve misread an entire situation or conversation. That I was never right to begin with. I’m starting to do that with my Florida vacation and my Aunt. I start to think that I probably did annoy her and I was a nuisance. I start to think she was only being polite and doing it for my mom. I start to think she couldn’t wait to get rid of me. I tried to talk less this trip. There were “jokes” made about the amount of talking I did the last time I was there. It was a few months after I had ECT and they had overshot their mark sending me into a manic phase that lasted quite a long time.

This trip I made sure if I was going to be in a group of the same people as the last time I would take half a Klonopin so I wouldn’t talk as much. I thought it kind of worked. But what do I know? I doubt everything these days. Love, trust, hope, existence. I wish I felt like I did after the one round of ECT. As bad as it was I felt confident, invincible and almost happy. It lasted almost 8 months. That is the longest I’ve ever felt anything close to happy in my entire life.

I even drove to a zoo that was 3 hours from my house. I had to go over a huge bridge which I’m not fond of at all. I was going because this zoo had a special breeding program for endangered wolves. They had built a special environment that mimicked the wolf’s in it’s natural habitat. It was beautiful. When I first got to the zoo it was a little crowded but for once I didn’t feel nervous. I was there for a purpose. I was a little disappointed when I arrived at the Wolf exhibit. There was a loud family of five there and the wolves were up on the rocks. There was no way they were coming down with all the noise and loud colors. Not to mention the strong perfume of the mom. I waited and waited. An hour went by before they left. I was so happy when they did I though my heart would burst.

I walked up to the fence as close as I could get but as far from where the family had stood. I stood with my shoulders slumped, eyes looking at the ground, head bowed. I was quiet as I could be. One by one they came off the rock. The Black one who was the Pack leader’s right hand man came up to the fence first. The rest followed on his signal. They all circled in front of me then sat down in the leaves. I cried tears of happiness, grief, and tears of everything I had lost and everything I would never have. In the end it was still one of the happiest moments of my life.


About darie73

I have lived with Bipolar Disorder since my early teens. I have lived with Social Anxiety Disorder for even longer. I self-medicated with alcohol for over 20 years, that's how long it took to get a diagnosis. I'm open and honest about my mental health so hopefully one day the system will change. View all posts by darie73

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