I am tired of taking medication to keep other people sane.
i have had it. I have reached the end of my rope. I cannot stand people today. I tried to
do something that I thought would be appreciated by an certain individual yesterday. Turns out the road to hell really is paved with good intentions, but I had no idea it came with undeserved criticism, and a 15 minute long chastising discussion (one sided) about how what I had done was completely wrong. WTF!!?!?!??!
Then, to add insult to injury, said person said they recognize that our thought processes were different: first and foremost because of my “illness,” it is always my fucking illness first, then other reasons such as different backgrounds, different life experiences, etc. But, always the “illness” first and always foremost. Yeah, I have had a much harder life than said individual. But, I, in many ways “chose” that lifestyle based on things that happened to me when I was much younger. Much, much younger. Like barely 16.
I did not ask for the event that occurred and I was in no way old enough to process it. So, I buried it with drugs and alcohol. I did not know what else to do. (There goes the fucking phone again. I am going to rip them out of the wall). When I brought up that snorting speed and cocaine for about 6 years isn’t real healthy for the lungs either (not to mention you tend to chain smoke while high on stimulants), said individual says to me: “You know you always try to compare your experiences like they are similar to others’.” Snorting coke and speed is not good for any part of the body involved. You snort the stuff up your nose…..not good for septum and sinuses. Since you are snorting it, it goes straight into your lungs. That’s fucking healthy, and then you chain smoke. How is that different than smoking for 40 years? Fuck this person. Who the hell do they think they are? Who the fuck died and made them capable of walking on water while the rest of us drown?
So, said conversation (again one sided) basically went something like this. No thank you for trying to do something nice, just you know I cannot smoke commercial brand cigarettes because of the additives. I have to smoke pure tobacco. Said individual has been smoking since I was born, maybe they should quit if brand name cigarettes are going to have such a negative effect. Smoking any cigarette is going to be bad for your throat, lungs, mouth, etc. Then said individual pointed out that when they bought cigarettes for us (yes, I took up smoking after then “incident when I was 16″), that they always got the ones with no additives even if it meant driving further. Well, as people who read my blog know, I totaled my car for the New Year (January 5th). So,I have to drive another car that I am not entirely comfortable with (it is huge compared to my old car.) So, I went as far as I could before the anxiety set in.
I am so fucking sorry I tried to do something that I thought would be appreciated. Won’t happen again. Trust me. I may make mistakes all the time (due to my “illness”), but I do learn from some of them. This one I learned from. Good intentions are not appreciated. I feel taken for granted, I feel like I do not ever want to try to do anything nice for this person ever again.
Oh, and then there is what I found in my email yesterday from my Internet company. Apparently, I downloaded a “film” back in December from some company DBA as “Devil‘s Films”. First of all, I would not be looking at “films” produced by such a company: I find that I lose interest in about a nanosecond, and they are not my preferred viewing material. Apparently, this was a niche film involving two “grannies” getting down with each other. WTF would I be doing watching that kind of crap? I am 41 years old. Not 65. Were I not to be completely bored by the genre in general, I would prefer younger people, with a plot that actually tells a story….. not just two or more people doing their thing with each other. Now that I have finished raving and ranting about that, here comes the real problem. The account is in my name, with my email, my address. I “own” the account. It doesn’t matter what someone else does with it, I am the responsible party. I am the one who could get fined, I am the one who could be criminally prosecuted. Not the dipshit that downloaded the “film” in the first place. And, then said jackass says, “I don’t even have the video anymore. It was boring so I deleted it”.
Does not matter if the “film is still on the computer or not. The point is that it was downloaded in the first place. And the Internet company knows it. It came from my router’s IP address, it has my router’s MAC address, it has everything associated with the router’s configuration. My router and my IP and MAC addresses. That’s how it was traced in the first place. I am not a techno-idiot. I know how to trace people from their IP addresses and the MAC address of the computer. I can pin it down to a physical address, in whatever town, city, state. I can pull up satellite maps of the area. This is how the company discovered the copyright infringement.
For crying out loud, if you are going to risk the fine and/or jail time, why download two grannies getting it on. If that’s what you are into, you are married to a person in the wrong age group. Even at 41, I am considered in this realm as “mature,” meaning I am not 20 something. Find a new fucking hobby (pardon the bad pun). Like, oh I do not know, paying attention to your wife who is very close to leaving you, or at least, getting what she doesn’t get at home somewhere else.
I have never cheated on a lover before, but I am getting damn close. I get no attention, no affection, it is a given that I will clean the kitchen and cook dinner. No thank you’s. Those are implied. It may be implied, but it is nice to hear once in a while. I am so close to ending this relationship so I don’t end up cheating because I have very strong feelings about that. My father cheated on my mom with a family “friend” for about 6 years until they both divorced and then married each other. So, I have a thing about cheating. It is wrong. Break up first if you think you are going to the dark side. That way no one gets seriously hurt, and there is no having to forgive and forget. I am that close. But, considering what my mom went through, I just cannot do it. I will divorce first. It’s not like this is a marriage anyway. He sleeps on the couch and has for about 3 months. I sleep in the bed, and I won’t let him sleep there anymore. It has been about the same amount of time since we had sex (I know, overshare), but it is relevant to my wanting to cheat. I don’t understand.
My “illness” has not popped up recently which said person claims is why they are sleeping on the couch and we are not engaged in “normal” marital relations. I am 41 freaking years old. I still have a very healthy sex drive, and I do not even get kisses or hugs. I am talking zero physical affection. And, he wonders why I don’t put on my lingerie anymore. It such an obvious answer. The last few times I have tried that, I got shot down in flames, and felt like such an idiot. Since I do not feeling like an idiot for trying to initiate sexual relations with my husband, I stopped. No reaction, no sexy lingerie. That’s the way it works. What is the point if you get no reaction? You just sit there all dolled up while he watches PBS Newshour or some shit like that. It is humiliating. I am just going to let him have his “fantasy” amateur porn stars. They seem to do more for him than I can.
Besides, It is not like I am ugly. Quite the opposite. I am not beautiful, but I am very pretty. Coke bottle figure, a little more voluptuous than I would like to be, but not bad. I am well proportioned, I have eyes that change from grey to green, I have a large chest (which he claims he has always liked in women; not me apparently). Basically, I have no problem finding men. Most women don’t because men are, in general (not always), interested in one thing from women, and it isn’t philosophical conversation. Robin Williams once said that men only have enough blood to run one head at a time. True.
So, I am completely pissed off while at the same time really sad. Mixed-episode? I do not think so. I think everything in my little world has collapsed, and I am not handling it as well as I could be. I am getting angry, I am getting depressed, I am feeling unloved, unwanted, undesirable, not sexy (even though I know some guys who would disagree, just not the main one), I do not even know why I spend so much time doing my make-up (unless it is to out-do other women; this is likely. Women are catty like that). Continue reading »
I have Bipolar I with Psychotic Features. I do not always perceive what is real or true, and what my own warped mind has fabricated. I get angry at things most “normal” people would brush off, I get combative when I feel I am being attacked, I experience extreme changes in mood, and the list could go on forever.
My husband is a chronic depressive (not diagnosed) who is constantly harping on me about my illness, and how everything revolves around me. He complains that no one cares about him myself included. I ask him what is bothering him, and he either tells me that nothing is wrong, or he will start talking, and in the end, it is inevitably me who is causing all his problems. I will admit to taking out past frustrations on him, and nobody deserves that. However, there are things he does in the present that have caused arguments as well. He is in nearly complete denial about his depression. He calls it “being out of it.” Call it what you like, he is depressed. I know it when I see it; I have spent most of life that way.
Currently, our marriage is barreling downhill at an astonishing pace. He sleeps on the sofa downstairs, and I sleep in the bed. This has been the arrangement for several months now. He will not talk to me, and when he does the conversation invariably turns to “No one thinks about me, they only think of you.” They are my family. Of course they have my interests at heart; and he has made more than a few mistakes in this marriage and with my family that have caused them to be somewhat against him. He feels entitled to all the attention I “get”.
When he does speak, it is almost a given that my having Bipolar disorder will become the focus of the conversation. I do not think about having Bipolar very often. I have had it for decades. My meds are like taking an aspirin for a headache. I just do not think about it that much. I do monitor my self with regards to mood, anxiety level, etc. so that my psychiatrist can adjust my medication accordingly. He is the one that always brings it up, usually in relation to two other Bipolar women he’s known. He just doesn’t see that I am not them, that Bipolar manifests differently in every person diagnosed. Some are very high functioning, and some are not. I tend to be relatively high functioning (most of the time), so I do not understand some of his criticisms of me. I think it’s transferrence or projection of his feelings onto me. I am the mirror of his own illness; it is easier for him to look at me and project his feelings onto me because I am a diagnosed Manic Depressive than to look at himself and realize that he is depressed and not functioning very well.
For myself, I try not to let his mood get in my way. It is so easy for a Bipolar or anyone, for that matter, to start to feed off the feelings of someone close to them. However, for the Bipolar individual, it is even more important to not allow someone else’s feelings about themselves become your problem. As far as I am concerned, I have to look out for my health first because if I go down the rabbit hole with him, there is nobody to take care of daily household business. That, and Bipolars have a very high suicide rate, both completed and attempted. So, when I get too stressed or feel myself sliding down the rabbit hole for tea with the Mad Hatter, I become concerned because I do have attempts in my past, and the thought will flicker briefly every day that being dead would be easier.
It is difficult enough for a relationship to flourish when one party has Mental Health issues, but when both parties have mental health problems, it becomes survival oriented, communication breaks down as the depressed person becomes more withdrawn and the Bipolar half starts to cycle rapidly through episodes. I have a tendency to think everything is my fault, so when he goes off on one of little journeys, I am often left wondering, “What did I do or didn’t do?” The question drives me nuts. He will claim it has nothing to do with me, but it generally is some oversight on my part. Basically, I am left holding the bag for everything that goes wrong. He won’t even admit to himself that maybe his own problems with depression may be having a negative effect on the relationship. Nope, it is always my manic depression. This type of relationship where both parties have a mental issue doesn’t go very far. It can’t because it always in survival mode; it takes a lot of work to make a relationship like this work. One has to have basic respect and compassion for the other, otherwise it will end as one or the other begins to feel that they need to protect their sanity.
His last girlfriend was a bipolar as well, but he met her when she was manic and at her most charming. I was neither manic nor depressed when he met me. I was surfing a gentle sine wave. I was riding my bike every day, swimming in the pool for the rest of the afternoon, I had a life that I had carved out for myself with a lot of hard work and introspection. I had friends. Good friends that I now do not have. I do not know if this is the illness biting me in the ass, or if her has me so isolated from every one that people just stopped coming around.
He judges me on a daily basis. Because he is arrogant enough to point out that women/girls in big cities take the time to fix their hair just so, and make their lips look like Angelina Jolie after a collagen injection. I do not want to look like that. I want to look like me, just enhanced. I do not want to look like Mick Jagger. But, he says that is what turns him on (thank you Internet porn for warping my husband.) It didn’t used to be an issue. But, I still continue to be held to standards of female beauty that I just do not agree with. I have achieved a compromise with the all important lip liner. I just have to say that if he expects me to try to turn him on, he needs to bathe more than once a month. Why should I bother trying to be a porno slut if he can’t even keep his hygiene under control? That turns me off, completely.
I have hit the point where I really do not care if I turn him on or not. I am comfortable with the way I look. At the risk of sounding vain, I am not an unattractive woman. I know for a fact that I am beautiful. Both inside and out. Besides, having sex with him after nearly three months is going to feel like a one night stand. He’ll get up and go sleep on the couch, and I will fall asleep in the bed. It has been this way for months. He just refuses to sleep in the same bed with me. Oh well, benefit for me. I have less back pain than I did before :) I can just feel my self losing faith in what is supposed to be a partnership, and a loving marriage. Granted, I can understand his position. He has inherited my anger and volatile temper along with a whole lot of hurt from life, in general. And, yes, I do lash out at him even though he has nothing to do with past issues, but the Internet Porn is all his doing. That is something he has done all on his own, and it has changed him from the man I used to know. He continues to view it for hours on end even though he knows that it hurts me and that I do not like it.
What happened to quid pro qou? He gives up some of the time he spends with the porn sluts, and keeps his hygiene up, and he might see a change in my attitude. but, as it stands now, nothing is going to change. i cannot change him, I can only change myself. And, he may not like that new self. I am half inclined to go with my mom today to file divorce papers today. I have rarely admitted defeat before I try to succeed, but this marriage seems hopeless. I am the only one who has to change, I am the only one causing problems between us (ummm, hello, hours on the Internet looking at other naked women, and watching them do anything; that one’s on him.) It just isn’t going to work between us. He is a big city guy stuck in a Southwestern “town” (never mind that there are 750,000 people living here.) I am never going to be able to be what he has decided he likes women to look like. I am who I am, and I am what I am. I have no apologies for that, I do not regret anything that I have done or has transpired to make me who I am. What I think is sad is that none of this had to happen. He could have stopped the porn stuff, and he could have been less adamant that I look like a big city girl. I am not from a big city, and therefore, I do take care with my makeup, but I have never had anyone with such an adamant and unwavering attitude that I must look like the big city women. I am fine with the way I look. Other men seem appreciative. He’s the only one who is dissatisfied with the way I look. And that argument is part of a larger whole of dysfunction in this relationship. it really isn’t about lipliner, it is about appreciation, and he might get what he wants if he would just bathe more often. This whole argument is about two people not wanting to do what it takes to make this work.
I am not the only one who has to change, he has his own issues that he should be working on, not focusing on my mental health issues. He says that I spend all my time thinking about my “illness,” I can guarantee you that he spends far more time on it than I do. Having Bipolar Disorder has just become part of my life; he’s the one who is hung up on it, and mentions nearly every day. And using lip liner is not going to help. As I said before, why should I bother when his basic hygiene is so bad? Why should I turn myself into one of his “fantasy” women if he won’t keep himself clean? I am giving up. I admit defeat. I admit that this failed because I was too defensive, too abrasive, and not enough of a whole lot of other things. I just cannot do this anymore. This argument is about respect, and compassion/appreciation for the other party. I have tried. I have failed.
I am feeling so utterly and completely frustrated right now. I feel like crying, but I can’t because the meds keep me from crying most of the time. I really need a marriage counselor, and my Medicare Advantage Plan does not cover marriage counseling. Like older people do not need a bit of help here and there with their relationships?!!?! WTF?!?!?! I realize that I am only 40-ish, but since I qualify for Medicare part B, I also qualify for the Medicare Advantage Plans. It covers my psychiatrist and my therapist, so why does the outpatient mental/”behavioral” health not cover marriage counseling. A bad marriage is mentally taxing and draining. And, those are bad things for Bipolars. Maybe that’s why every one of my relationships have gone south.
My husband hasn’t talked to me in two days, we haven’t slept in the same bed for two months, and the marital relations thing is not happening. At this point, it would be like being with a stranger. I do not know who he is anymore. I do not know who I am in relation to the marriage. I know who I am away from him, but not when with him. There is a Crosby, Stills, and Nash song about how two people while apart are two separate people, but when together they create a third entity. I do not know what my place in the third entity is. If I even have one.
He claims to want to go to therapy, but I see him doing no work to find a therapist, or anything. That seems to me to be a sign that he is not really serious about repairing what used to be a really beautiful relationship. I cannot live like this. I need for this to either end or get fixed. And, I am not one to admit defeat until I have tried to win. It is like saying you do not like a food you have never tried. How do you know if you haven’t tried it? So, I am unwilling to admit defeat until I run out of options. Then, and only then, will I admit it is impossible, the situation untenable, and that I have failed.
I am trying to find something through Medicare or Community Outreach programs, but I am finding nothing that seems helpful……no wonder the divorce rate in this country is so high. There’s no help anywhere.
I really feel like having a tantrum; full-fledged with kicking and screaming and crying, but I cannot due to medication. Even though I have specifically kept my doses low enough to be therapeutic, but still allow me to feel, they make it so I just cannot cry. That’s all I want to do. I am so frustrated with our mental health system. It is not just dysfunctional; it is broken, perhaps irreparably. People have crises in all parts of their lives. If I was suicidal, I could get help. But I am not suicidal. What I am is someone trying to save their marriage. So much for family values as espoused by the Right-wingers.
…….And I am glad it is over. I do not think I can take much more “New Year’s” cheer. First, I lose my last grandparent right before Thanksgiving. I was not invited to Thanksgiving that year (2012). That was a first, so I am getting over her death. She was 97, and it was time for her to go. She outlived her husband by 27 years and 12 days. Now they are together again, if you believe such things. I myself do not, but I am a Buddhist. We do not believe in the rejoining of people in death, we believe in reincarnation when the right person is born for the energy left behind by another. Christmas was dismal despite my husband’s best efforts. I was extremely lacking in this department this year. Just couldn’t get it together in time. Now, last Saturday (the 5th) I go and rear end an Infiniti. I couldn’t take out out a 20 year Toyota. Oh no, I have to take out a $50,000 car. I am just waiting for the lawyer’s papers. So, now I am bus bound in the middle of winter. Not that I mind the bus. It has a sub-culture all its own, which fascinates my sociological mind. I could do without the wind and the cold though. So, let’s just say, it really only can get better from here,
Sorry for the lack of posting. I had a toolbar from hell that was blocking my access to my blog on Chrome, and I couldn’t find it anywhere in my computer to delete it. Very frustrating.
All in all, this has been a frustrating year so far, but I am looking forward to the weight loss from tramping from bus stop to bus stop
thinking that he is getting away with something that he knows pisses me off
thinking that closing the door is going to hide his lies when he comes out
thinking that he can say it is warmer in there when I can see in his eyes he is lying
thinking and feeling sorry for himself because no one cares about him. I do.
thinking that everything revolves around me because I am “sick”. I am not that ill.
thinking erroneously that I do not care how he feels. I ask, he says he is fine when he is not. Why do I bother to ask? Later he will claim that I never ask what is going on with him.
I cannot stand a liar.
I have this muddle going on in my mind. My husband said the other night that I can be very self-centered, and he did not mean it nicely. He said it the way he did because he knew that I would run home to mommy. I was so upset by his comment that I had to put the question to someone who knows me really well. He wrote me back saying it was dangerous territory and he apologized in advance if he offends me. He started by saying that I am an “exceedingly self-centered” person. But he finished the letter encouraging me to find the kind of love and respect that I deserve and he knows that I do not get it at home.So, the definition of “self-centered” is according to Merriam Webster, be patient here. I have to go look up the true definition of the word not just my explanation.
“Self-Centered” means 1) independent of outside force or influence (the role of the self-sufficient). It also means 2) concerned solely with one’s own desires, needs or interests. (This would be the description of me) 3) these are interesting: narcissistic, egotistical, self-involved, selfish, self-seeking, etc.
After the email I got from my friend, and I had asked him because I know he has a personality like Comet cleanser (the powder kind) sometimes, and I knew he would tell me the absolute, no holds barred, unflinching truth even if he did run the risk of making me really angry. Because he is a very longtime friend of mine, he knew he risked telling me something I did not want to hear, but he would tell me because he does love me in his own twisted way. And I love him in my own twisted way. i love him because he does not play games with you. He shoots from the hip, and says what he means. He rarely will say something he doesn’t mean. Its like Mozart but different. It is as if everything he was going to have to say in his life time was predetermined. Its creepy sometimes. Anyway, seeing as how I am so extraordinarily self-centered, it is time to talk about me
I think to a certain extent when one is ill mentally or physically, you have to be a little self-centered so that you can take care of you. In the end, all we have is ourselves, and the aged bodies that we arrived in. Especially if the illness is chronic and progressive. Vigilance over one’s self is necessary to lead a fairly functional life. When this vigilance starts to crack and you sprout wings and fly, I am pretty certain you have gone manic/mad. So, no, I disagree with both his and my husband’s assessments of me. I am not an all consuming egotist that chews up everything I run across. I will admit that, yes, I do sometimes put myself ahead of others, and I admit this behavior doesn’t lend itself well to lasting relationships (unless both parties are nuts). I feel that a certain amount of self-centeredness is acceptable for everyone, sick or not, Vampire or not. We need it to survive sometimes. It can be our intuition telling us that we need to get the heck out of dodge like yesterday.
But, yes, I will admit that since I finally developed this lovely disorder instead of just being depressed all the time, I have become more self-oriented, more self-centered than I was a few years ago because I had to become that way or the head doctors would still be testing their medications on me like I was some kind of lab rat. I had no idea that when you check into a mental hospital, you are their hostage guinea pig for at least 72 hours. That’s three days of brain damage they could inflict. I didn’t know. I wasn’t ready for it. And the doctors walked all over me. I left with 6 or 7 prescriptions; some for the morning and some for the evening. I was so messed up. We couldn’t even tell what worked because of the number of medications. So, yeah, I had to get a little self-centered and try to advocate for myself, and I have never had a voice. Maybe I took it too far.
Maybe I became everything I used to loathe about people; I had problems and still have problems with people who speak before they think, and act before they think it through. I see a lot of that type of behavior in my own life. And, in my relationship, although he may not understand that I am doing the best I can; I am trying to think of him more ahead of myself, but since he never says thank you, and accepts his gift with an air of entitlement, like he has given so much to this relationship and I have contributed nothing. Well, I can tell you he brought one thing to the relationship that sends me over the edge is his addiction to Internet porn. his realistically longest lasting impression that he will leave on this relationship is that I walked out because I do not need to be taken for granted, and I sure as hell do not deserve a husband who spends 12-24 hours on the net collecting pictures of nude women. Hello! I am screaming over here, and you turn a deaf ear. Continue reading »
I am tired
of the ups and downs. It seems like there are more downs recently. I have been through too many of these. I do not feel like I have any support network. My father had effectively removed himself from my life (I no longer receive birthday or christmas cards from him, that pretty much tells me he wants nothing to do with me), my mother has moved away from me again although I think it is her husband that has encouraged this. So, I have lost her. And now my husband is internet bound for days and nights on end. What is really ironically funny is that he told me the other night that I can come to him with my problems, and then this morning went off on me because I couldn’t get his internet to hook up to our network. How am I supposed to feel comfortable telling him that I am suicidal, probably need hospitalization (the last time I asked him to take me to the hospital, he flipped out on me and began to yell at me). so, he’s a no go despite what he claims. Words are very different than actions, and I do not trust him to give a shit. All he cares about is his internet porn.
I have hit the end of my very frayed rope. There is no way out of this. Well, there is, but I do not think I want to there. It is tempting though. Just going to sleep and not waking up. Seems kind of appealing, but I cannot go there nor can I tell anyone because they will call the police. i am fucked. I can’t seem to shake this funk, and it was highly exacerbated this morning by getting yelled ant and attacked verbally by my own husband. I think I need out of this relationship. He, however will not grant me a divorce.
I am hurting and my chest feels constricted and mt heart has been broken by words not sincerely offered. I wish I could just be numb.
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