My sister told me recently that she has been going to group therapy for people who have mentally ill members of the family. She has been going because I am and have been toxic in her life. I have been disrespectful to her husband and mean to her. This broke my heart more. I have been selfish in my disease and need to take responsibility for my actions.
If I have to hear that crap from her or her husband one more time my head will explode. I was disrespectful to her husband ONE time in over 20 years. He has done and said plenty of things that I have had to bite my tongue about. When he decided to discipline my dog by shoving her with his foot in her chest across the floor, I said nothing. She limped for several days after. It was my fault, not the dog’s fault. He had no right. He was a guest in our home and she only weighed 9 pounds. My beautiful Pap. He has also called me without my sister knowing to chastise me because I upset her in some way. This is not his business either. He will sit in front of other family members and call my brother a “drunken loser”, “a degenerate gambler”, “a deadbeat dad”, etc. My brother has always supported his kids and my brother in law has no idea what my brother has been through in his life. It wasn’t easy for him. It doesn’t excuse his behavior but it at least you can understand why he does some of things he does. My brother in law just started his sobriety and thinks that gives him the right to judge everyone else. Why isn’t my sister in a support group for that?
She doesn’t want to have contact with me. I upset her too much. I ask too much of her. I have only asked her to love me. She said she never said I could stay with them if something happened with our dad and I needed a place to stay for a short time. I lost it on the phone. I cried so hard and stuttered so much she hung up on me. So now I have just my dad who is keeping me prisoner here. I was told that if I even take a few days at the beach not to come back. I have a Kidney Infection in the one I have left, side effects from a medication I’m back on, no support, my back is out, I have not had a simple hug or show of support in a long time. I feel like I am done. I feel tired.
Recently I have felt the need to reach out to my mom’s side of the family. Specifically one of her sisters. My Aunt spent a lot of time at our house and I spent a lot of time with her. I love her very much. When she decided to move back to Florida my mother’s health took a turn for the worse. She felt she had lost her best friend and kind of gave up. She spent most of her time in her room. She would come down to make herself a pile of bologna sandwiches and go back to her room. She had heart problems and wasn’t supposed to be eating like that. She also had Diabetes and would stash candy in her room. Nothing we did or said could get her out of her Depression. She soon went into Congestive Heart Failure and passed away.
When I try to call my Aunt it goes to voice mail and the box is always full. She never calls back. I know she has her own life to live but she was the second closest thing to a mom for me. Since my Bipolar diagnosis my phone calls are not returned by any of my mom’s family. This is odd considering most of them have mental health issues or alcohol addiction themselves or in their own families. But they have always been the type to bury their heads in the sand.
I think they are afraid that I want to visit. I mentioned a trip to Florida on Facebook. I wouldn’t have asked to stay with any of them and where I was going wasn’t really near any of them. It hurts when people you love turn away from you. I have a lot on my plate right now. Taking care of my father and my own health issues has left me exhausted. I can’t really afford a vacation anyway but still.
I think because my health problems are serious I feel the need to connect. I wish they would let me.
I woke up too early today. When this happens my dad get’s irritated with me because I interrupt his “relaxation” time. I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do. Stay in my room and stare at the ceiling until an acceptable time arrives?
I was lying on the couch, not bothering anyone, when he asked “Who are we going to get today?”. I didn’t understand him at first so I asked him to repeat himself. He also said this in a sarcastic way. He repeated it. I asked him what he meant. He said “You know. With you we never how you are going to be when you wake up.” I said “I am Bipolar not Sybil, Dad.” This bothered me. He was so sarcastic about the entire thing.
When I talked to my sister she told me I needed to “lighten up” about what people said to me. She said so what if he was making a joke about my moods. She has mood swings too and her husband jokes about them. She said isn’t that why it’s called “Bipolar”.
Her “mood swings” are not anything like having Bipolar Disorder. Bipolar is going from one extreme to the other in my case. When I am depressed I am in a deep dark hole and my mind tells me that I do not deserve to be on this planet. I look in the mirror in see a piece of shit that has accomplished nothing and never will. Frequently I think about what it would it be like to die even though I try to occupy my brain so I don’t.
My manic episodes are no fun either. I want to crawl out of my skin. I want to party for days without sleeping but don’t. I go on spending sprees. I’m irritable and jumpy. My mind races from thought to thought. I do things without thinking of the consequences.
Bipolar Disorder is not funny to me. When you have been hospitalized, lost everything, treated like shit and allowed it there is no humor in that. I am a sensitive person. I always have been. If I had a nickel for every time someone told me I need to grow a “tougher skin” I would have millions of dollars. You know how I toughened my skin? I drank. I can’t and won’t do that anymore.
So too bad if I don’t see the “funny”, “humorous”, side of Bipolar Disorder. It has caused too much damage. I have caused too much damage. Deal with it. I have to.
While talking to my sister today I mentioned I might go to the ER at Mass General before my scheduled appointment with the specialist. She wanted to know why.
I told her my temperature had been running low, 95 to 96 degrees. When I looked it up it said when you have problems with your kidneys it’s an indicator of kidney failure. I also am having extreme headaches, pain in my sides that radiates to my back and pelvis. I’m having a hard time breathing also. I’ve lost more weight and everything has an odd taste to it. Even my toothpaste tastes salty. The more water I drink the worse the pain is.
My sister’s response to all this was that maybe my Conversion Disorder was causing me to think I was having all of these problems and that I shouldn’t be looking on the internet.
I was thinking maybe I needed to have my medical records tattooed on me so everyone would believe how serious my condition is. You don’t go into Kidney Failure 2 times in a couple of months for no reason. It says in my charts that “Life saving measures were taken” both times. Isn’t that enough to be taken seriously and to be believed by your loved ones?
It makes me angry, frustrated and sad. All you have to do is look at me to see that I’m seriously ill. Why would I make it up when there is documented evidence? I don’t understand the quickness to write everything off due to my mental illnesses.
I can’t get any peace here. I sleep for maybe 2 hours a night. I want to just go to hotel with a comfortable bed and sleep for 2 days. I don’t have the money of course.
I just want to know what’s going on and why. I want answers. The longer it goes on the more damage there is to my kidneys that can’t be reversed. I don’t even have the energy to clean myself up to go to the hospital. I can’t concentrate for long. I hope this is over soon.
I have not been feeling well lately, I admit that. I have been crying often and have very little support. Some of this is my fault and some it is due to insurance. I can’t bring myself to actually get dressed and go to a Dr. When it is 20 degrees out and snowing it’s even harder for me. I live with my dad who is going through dialysis. He doesn’t always feel great either. He used to be my rock, we talked about everything. Animals, the news , movies, current events, just whatever was going on. We don’t do that anymore. He sits and looks on Ebay at clocks. I look at stuff on the computer and tv. If I try to talk to him he snaps at me because he can’t hear me or he doesn’t want to talk. I then cry. He then yells at me to “quit my crying” or says “jesus christ I thought you would be over this by now”. Meaning my Bipolar Disorder. Today was a really bad day, my sister hasn’t called me back in 3 days, my best friend hasn’t in over a week. So he started in again. I took the bait like an idiot saying I couldn’t really control it. Then the subject of ECT came up and he said he didn’t really have ECT and I said “really? Did the Dr. rub his feet on the carpet and shock me that way?” Cause that’s not how I remember it. Then he said he didn’t want to get into it. I was suppose to have more treatments. I said ” then you try it if you think it’s so great you’ll be on your goddamn knees begging for your mother! You couldn’t handle it!” Wrong things to say it was downhill from there. To minimize my experience was a shitty thing to do. A Dr. I didn’t know did the procedure, took all my meds away before and after it was done and wouldn’t release me when he was suppose to. Nothing went according to plan. Being forced to stay in a locked co-ed ward with mentally ill and detoxing patients was not what I signed on for. Being kept longer because you disagreed with the Dr. was something I still have nightmares about. Waking up thinking your 5 and your mommy is coming to get you (even though she is dead) is horrendous. Thinking this for most of the day until I remembered her death on my own was enough to make me want to bitchslap the Dr. for having the staff go along with this. Making it sound like a picnic was heartbreaking to me. Coming from the mouth of my hero, my rock. Trying to let it all go is something I struggle with. But I keep trying. Why I ask myself I don’t know. I want a better quality of life but it seams so allusive at times.