I’m going to sound like I am pathetic and whining. At this point I just don’t give a shit. The Chihuahua are gone and I am disappointed to say the least. I’m having a pity party for one. Another day with no human contact except the pharmacy called. I reached out to several people but got no response. I’m used to it now. Most of my life has been like that except when I was drinking. That wasn’t a real life.
My family used to think it was funny that when I was 5 my grandfather forgot me at the car wash. It everyone a while to notice that I didn’t come back with him. They found me standing on the side of the road an hour later just waiting. It was a busy road with a lot of traffic. Back then he lived with us and would always fall asleep with a lit cigarette in his hand. In those days my parents drank and fought often. I watched my father hit my mother one time and she wet herself. That was the day he quit drinking for good. It was the one and only time he ever showed any violence toward her.
I watched my half brother and father fight physically often. The police were at our house many times. We never knew what we would find when we got home from school. One day it was the kitchen table turned over with blood on the floor. My brother was bigger than my father and always started it. It’s still no excuse. My mother was missing that day. She had been committed to a psychiatric facility. My sister and I had to stay with our grandmother who we hardly knew. It was there that I got my first period and didn’t know what to do. I felt ashamed and embarrassed. You couldn’t even flush the toilet at her house.
Somehow the kids at school found out about my mom and I was teased about it. Added to the fact that I was chubby and it made for a very unhappy time. I withdrew further. My sister for some reason escaped the teasing. I grew up around a family filled with mental illness and addiction. The only way my mom thought she could get attention is when she was “sick”. The doctors usually found nothing wrong with her until they did. Lung Cancer.
By this time I was a full blown alcoholic. I let myself be used and abused by some of the worse people in society. Why? Because I believed I deserved it. If my suicide attempts failed then maybe the alcohol would kill me, if that didn’t work maybe one of the violent men I kept company with would. One of them came close.
All within a year I lost my mom, was diagnosed with Celiac Disease, lost my job, was diagnosed Bipolar, lost my 2 Aunts, was diagnosed with Conversion Disorder, quit drinking, lost my friends, and declared Bankruptcy. Everything went to hell.
I’m 6 and half years sober and trying to keep it together. Things just seem to keep getting worse. I know that because of my kidney problems I’m probably not absorbing any of my medications correctly. This might have been happening for some time. I hope that’s part of it. I don’t want to feel like this forever. I’ve considered ECT again but they won’t do it with me being sick right now. I just hope something changes soon. Winter is coming and it’s harder for me then. I can’t imagine how it could get much worse. I wish my mom was here to hold my head like she used to. She would say “My beautiful baby girl, I love you. It’s going to be ok.” No one does that now. I never got to tell her how sorry I am for being a burden and causing her so much pain. Her last words to me were “I’m sorry I screwed up your life”. I hope it was the medication talking and she knew that she didn’t.
I don’t think my good days are worth it anymore. I had 2 good days. I made jewelry, cleaned the house, talked to my best friend, and cried 1 time. Today I’m back where I was but worse. Worse because I know just yesterday wasn’t as bad, I saw a glimpse of normalcy. I hate it.
What I wish my family knew is that when they get out of control around me it effects me. When my dad is worried to the point of not eating about his medical bills for dialysis it effects me. When he’s swearing, pacing the floor, and angry at a guy he shipped a clock to, it effects me.
I feed off of other people’s emotions. So this morning while he’s having a temper tantrum I’m crying and stuttering. He yelled at me about our dog JoJo. He told me not to “hurt him” anymore. I said “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?” My father has trouble hearing and I was pissed. I wasn’t even going to touch JoJo I was using the couch for balance because I had several leg cramps in the middle of the night and my legs were like jello. JoJo has a sore tooth and we don’t want to lose him like we did Pookie. I can’t handle it and neither could my dad. But I know almost as much as my dad. Who looked into Colloidal Silver? Me! And the unprocessed coconut? Me! How to stop a seizure immediately? Me! But I’m treated like a moron. Yes I’ve lost a lot of my cognitive skills. I’ve lost gray and white matter, enough to worry 2 Neurologists and my short term memory is impaired but I’m still here. Don’t ignore me. Please. When I have my bad days why can’t my dad or sister take my hand, hug me, anything. Just tell me you’ll still love me and I matter, that I’m not invisible.
I try not to do this often because there always seams to be some sort of backlash when I do. But me being who I am, never learns.
There is a video that someone put on YouTube featuring Steven Tyler singing the song Amazing at a Recovery Center. He also spent time talking to the people there in recovery. He doesn’t make a big to do about it when he does these things, he just does them. As far as I know.
There is a time during the song where you see him get emotional and he covers his face with his hands briefly. I know he was going through an emotional time then. He then looks out at the room, continues singing, and looks joyful. Maybe to have them there for support, people who understand where he’s been and where he is. Yes, I know he has money and fame but it really doesn’t buy you happiness at the end of the day when your family no longer speaks to you and the only people who do are the ones who want something. I’m not saying this is him but this does happen often. They are just people who hurt and struggle like anyone else. Although some will get pissed if their fans thought that of them. It’s ridiculous. Man up. You want to admit you are an addict/alcoholic but not human like the rest of us. I call bullshit on that. It’s why I loved watching Mr. Tyler doing his thing and not caring. He also didn’t call a press conference about it. I think it’s called humility.
In the world of the famous there is an outbreak of mental illness and addiction. They make it look easy. It’s misleading to the public around me. “You’re Bipolar? But So and So is Bipolar and you don’t act like her. She’s fine.” See what I mean? I get it often.
Mental Illness and Addiction comes in many shapes and sizes. There is no one size fits all or one cure for everyone. But I will say that nothing makes me happier than watching Steven Tyler sing.
In my 42 years on this planet I have lost 2 grandmothers, 2 grandfathers, 2 Aunts, 2 Uncles, my Mom, 4 dogs, and 1 cat. 2 of the dogs lived to be 20, 1 was a Black Lab Husky mix and the other was a German Shepherd mix that looked like a wolf. The cat was an indoor cat and lived to be 22. Having to euthanize a sick pet that is only almost 7 kills me. I admit I do not handle death well since my mother’s passing 7 years ago. Animals have always been hard on me, I’ve always had a special connection with them. Even the most aggressive animals change around me. (This was observed by several other people I’m not delusional) I’ve given CPR to several dogs but no humans. I have more compassion and empathy for animals than humans. Maybe because what you see is what you get. You know in the wild it’s survival of the fittest. The other animals don’t lie to you, if you’re the weak one then guess what? You’re gone. But some do know about a love and loyalty so fierce they would kill for it. I have found that lacking in the Society around me.
My dad was sobbing uncontrollably this morning when I told him we had to let our Chihuahua go. This man was in the Navy, has tattoos on his forearms like Popeye and worked a blue collar job. But he loved that dog. He would hold him in his arms like a baby and sing to him some made up song he thought was funny. Pookie would only respond to my voice which is kind of high pitched and a little cartoonish. My father would have to imitate me to get him to come in from outside. I would hide and laugh until tears rolled down my cheeks and I started coughing. Pookie slept with my dad every night curled up next to his head on his pillow. When I was feeling extremely low Pookie would somehow know. He would look at me and then run as fast as he could to jump in my lap and lick my eyes where tears had started. I have since read that Chihuahuas are the best dogs for people with Bipolar Disorder because they can sense their moods. I know Pookie could.
A few people have already expressed their opinions that “it’s just a dog”. No, he wasn’t. He was family. He helped more than most of my actual family.
Did my sister answer her phone? No. Her father is in a ball crying and I’m right along with him and she doesn’t answer her phone. Am I surprised? No. My father has cried in front of me a total of 5 times in 42 years. He doesn’t show emotion easily. I called my brother in law and he said ” I don’t know what you expect her to do about any of it”. How about just calling your f**king father and offering support instead of leaving it all to me as usual? My sister doesn’t care about animals and apparently she doesn’t care about her family either.
I will cry, scream, and grieve for as long as it takes. He was my dog, my best friend, and I loved him. If the rest of the world doesn’t understand I feel sorry for you.
If my superpower is invisibility then could I please be truly invisible? Or maybe unaware? I see things or feel what others don’t. My sister and my long time friend will tell me I’m being paranoid or too sensitive. Then I have to prove it. Once I tell them what to look for, body language or the person’s eyes, they get it. I’m tired of this. Tired of going to CVS and knowing I am going to get an eye roll or talked about as I walk away. I’m sorry I talked too much after that one round of shock therapy, and after changing some of my meds constantly. I’m sorry for asking questions about my medications. I thought that was part of being a pharmacist. I try to be silent now. Even when the new generic I got isn’t working and all of the prices have changed. Today was hard, I couldn’t keep the tears in as I walked away from the counter. No one noticed the red head staring at the water cooler until she could control her emotions. They never do. This power of invisibility has been with me for so long now I wouldn’t know what to do if I was seen. My birthday parties were always for two. Only one celebrated. My sister and her friends had fun every year. I watched from the sidelines. I didn’t know until later she was counting the years until it could just be her. I was actually banned from her birthday parties when she was in college. It’s ok I was a full-blown alcoholic by then. Today I am sober and more alone than ever. I go from anger to sadness hour by hour. My health is in question so I am stuck in limbo medication wise and therapy wise. I’m forgetting words more often and my stutter is embarrassing. It’s been made clear that family and the public really do not want to be around anyone who is “sick” or “down”. There is no place for me except with animals or by the water. If I could I would go to a place like that.
I think I’m being selfish or self-absorbed lately. All I can focus on is the lack of response I’ve gotten concerning my health. Yes my sister was there for me while I was in the hospital, my best friend visited me in the hospital and so did my sister-in-law. Since then there really hasn’t been much contact from anyone. My brother never called, my Aunt who I am close to never called, no other family has called. Forget Facebook friends, there was no response there either. My hair dresser never contacted me and we are supposedly close. We’ve gone to dinner, exchanged gifts, I was invited to her baby shower and nothing.
I know I feel things at a deeper level. When my feelings are hurt they are hurt twice as bad as someone without Bipolar. I will overthink everything until I’m literally sick. So in my head it’s “no one cares”, “I annoy everyone so they don’t want to hear it”, “I don’t deserve anyone’s sympathy or understanding”, “who cares if I die I deserve to”. This goes round and round. My meds are probably not being metabolized correctly because of my kidneys. This makes things worse. I’m actually scared for once.
The seriousness of my situation is being downplayed. My family doesn’t realize how bad it is. My dad does but it frightens him so he won’t talk about it. My sister refuses to accept that there is anything seriously wrong. I would think my going into Acute Renal Failure for no reason and being asked about a DNR about ten times would indicate otherwise. Also the fact I’m being sent to an Oncologist and having a biopsy done because there are only a few reasons why what happened to me did. None of them are good. I’m stressed beyond my capacity. I just want answers so I can plan what to do. I can’t make people care or respond in ways they are not capable of doing. I won’t beg.