Sunday, June 21, 2015

Let's Talk About It

A little over a year ago, I wrote a blog entry on my other blog about mental illness.

http://lifeandpeanutbutter.blogspot.com/2014/05/call-me-crazy-but-please-understand.html, if you're interested.

In the comment section, there's one that really bugs me. It's from my mother, who I mentioned in the post due to her tendencies. In it she says something along the lines of "Oh, thanks for telling me, I didn't know I'm bipolar." Right now she is sitting in her bathroom having an episode that can only be described as intensely manic. She acts out, she has uncontrollable rage, she cries over nothing quite a lot. The reason I don't want to have kids is because she did. I'm here. My three siblings are here. She's bipolar/manic depressive, and so are all four of us. If I have children who turn out like my two younger siblings, my rage may get the best of me. Birth control is my preemptive strike. On top of being bipolar, my brother is also a drug addict. Cocaine, crack, heroin, xanax bars, methamphetamines, marijuana, just about anything he can get to. He got my little sister to do heroin and smoke assorted substances with him multiple times. They've both been to jail for it, and neither of them will stop. As adults, that choice is theirs to make. As bipolar/manic depressive diagnosees, it's a choice they should not be making.

My mother refuses to medicate herself, and frequently has these episodes of rage, tears, and eventually vomiting until she passes out or her body just tires out, whichever comes first. "The meds make me tired." She takes a generic Xanax whenever she feels like she may get emotional over something. What that mean is it doesn't have the time to do its job and to help her. So she still has her episodes.

I've watched countless shows and movies, read countless books about the children of bipolar/manic mothers, and the common thing I've found between them all is that the children eventually learn that there is nothing they can do. If you say or do something, it can be a trigger. If you don't say or do something, it can be a trigger. Our actions or non-actions have no bearing on our mothers' reactions. I learned this early on. My two younger siblings still try to fight it. My older sister is 1500 miles away dealing with her own bipolar depression and doesn't speak to any of us anymore.  I can only hope that my sweet nephew inherits his father's tendencies, aside from the "being a cheating liar" part.

I have panic attacks maybe once a week, anxiety attacks very rarely happen to me, and my emotions have no range, only very defined ends. When I do "feel", I am either incredibly happy or in an uncontrollable rage. 90% of the time, however, I am completely stoic and non-verbal. I deactivated my Favebook last Thanksgiving, and it was more of a blessing than intended. I've been using snapchat quite a bit, and it's made me be more talkative and made me feel more than I ever have. I even posted a 400+ second story the other day! I love myself, and I have my manic attributes under control. This is something that I hope to one day be able to say about the rest of my family.

There wasn't much of a point to this, more just me putting it into words. If you read this far, thank you. It really means something to me.