Jan 07 2009
The fears of being bi-polar
Suffering from bi-polar disorders can be very disheartening for those that are going through it. For myself my disorder manifests itself in a little different way than from others that I have read about. While I never get depressed, when my mood shifts it goes from happy go lucky day, to night of the living dead uncontrollable rage. For the most part I had been doing pretty well dealing with things as they come up, but for some reason this month has been postal for my poor wife. The main reason I believe it has been so hard on us this year is due to the Christmas season. Instead of bringing forth a feeling of great joy and holiday desires it tends to fill my heart with such and uncontrollable anger I all most explode each and every day.
Today was one of those very special days that my world seemed to spin out of control. I was on the phone with my lovely wife who was calling the auto dealership about how much it would cost to get our car fixed. The work that needs to be done is to replace the power steering pump. Nothing major in my eyes but for some reason the dealership believes that it must be a major inconvenience. They quoted her a price of $800 smackers. The cost breakdown is $400 for the part and $400 for the labor. My God what do they believe the part is made out of, hardened gold. And $400 big ones to put it on. How hard could this be, you just pop the old one off and put the new one on. With a price like that I would assume that they were going to be spending 5-6 hours working on this endeavour. But I have digressed from the problem at hand. When I heard the news I bit the hand that literally does feed me. I was so mad I screamed and yelled into my poor cell phone till the red-line meter pegged out. Then without warning something snapped, and unfortunately it was my poor cell phone. Where once I had a perfectly good LG camera phone that was around five years old, I now own two very nice individual pieces that just don’t seem to work any more. After the incident I felt terrible.
See, I no longer take my medication due to the fact of the out of control weight gain that it caused me to experience. So the main fault of the tirade was my own. For me every time I act like a 295 pound two year old it feels like a little piece of me just died. I mean, who wants to walk around like a ticking time bomb just waiting for the timer to go off and every thing around me could become the object of my release. While I have never, ever, ever gotten physical with my wife or dogs the thought still scares me every time I blow up. Lots of the relaxation techniques that I use do work, including doing Sudoku, they tend not to work unless you can step away from the situation. So my question to my fellow friends and bloggers what are the tips that you use to take the bite out of a toxic situation?
I’m not sure. I still need a lot of work at dealing with toxic situations; I tend to explode as often as not. Which is happening more regularly recently, since I’m still unemployed, still running in circles with my blogging, and still… well, you get the idea. I spend a lot of time touchy.
So…. I guess I can’t help you. How embarrassing.
I write, write, write. And I don’t mean for publication. I do that too, but this is different. I duct tape my internal editor’s mouth shut, tie her up in the closet, and write out all my mean thoughts, the venomous things I think of to say, and the nasty deeds I think of for revenge and retaliation.
Sometimes I write till I cry, sometimes till I laugh at myself.
One of my best friends was beat as a kid by his dad. As a father, he was terrified he’d pass on the family tradition to his children, and was committed not to do so. He started whoopin’ his bed. He locks the door, goes into the bedroom he shares with his wife, kneels by his side of the bed, clasps his hands together over his head, and beats the tar out of his mattress. He’s never laid a hand on his wife or kids. Nor does he verbally, emotionally, or sexually abuse them.
I used to play racquetball and picture the face of my obnoxious boss on the ball. I loved the sound of my racket smacking that ball and it bouncing off the wall. SMACK!
Lots of options. I think it’s about finding what works for you personally. Bed beating and a lot of other stuff doesn’t work for me.
Along the way, I’ve gradually learned (by taking baby steps) to identify and deal with my emotions. Not perfectly, but I’ve made progress. Selectively, I can talk about whats going on with me.
And I pray. Nothing highfalutin. I talk to God straight-up because I believe He already knows everything about me, so there’s no reason to try and hide.
This has me thinking…I wanna blog about this.
All the best.
Roxie
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