The livewire biplolar blues

I began the day blah.

An hour later I was almost manic, just not in a happy love-the-world way. I was talking fast, and a lot, to the point I point blank asked the person if I was irritating them. Mania can grate uponst the nerves if it is not the good kind.

Then I ventured into the petri dish, kid in tow. Everyone tells me how well behaved she is for them at stores. I hate Wal-Mart, but we ventured there, and omg, she would not mind, she just did what she wanted and if I spoke to her or tried to carry her, she said “You hurt me!” I, for the life of me, cannot figure out why she would say such things, because the cameras could plainly indicate I didn’t harm her in any way, and I don’t know why I am the ONLY person she so out and out defies.

She makes me a basketcase full of dread when I need to go out and run errands.

A kid says “You hurt me” the powers that be take action and you’re guilty til proven innocent. It has made me terrified of my own child. And yes, I have tried the whole be firm/be consistent thing. She is just defiant of me. I often wonder if this is some post traumatic thing from her father leaving and if my child will grow to hate me, thinking I am the reason he left.

Neither here nor there.

I have been up and down the mood gamut. In public, the mania dipped into a “coping but nervous wreck” state.

I’ve been driving for years and while it is always a little anxiety inducing, it is even more so with a kid kicking the seat, whining they dropped this and that, GET IT FOR ME NOW, and asking 4 dozen questions that amount to nothing. Yeah, I know, welcome to parenthood. The kid is normal. I, on the other hand, am NOT. And the harder I try to be, the more I fail. Some things just escape me.

I’ve never been calm a day in my life (minus the gallbladder surgery drugs and the epidural.)

I am, by nature, a livewire.

For whatever reason, my central nervous system just spontaneously fires impulses that tell me to shift into fight or flight mode. Sometimes, I can override these shifts. Sometimes, they kick my ass.

It is not a matter of “grow up” or “snap out of it.”

People who say shit like that make me feel violent impulses.

And thing is, I am generally not violent, I am actually quite the pacifist. I would rather walk away from a fight than engage in one because no one ever wins and it seems, psychologically, pointless and immature.

There was a point today, with six power company trucks outside tending to some downed wires, and people coming and going and horns honking, and engines revving…that I actually felt overloaded. My mind just sputtered and came close to shutting down because my heart beat was so loud in my head, I couldn’t focus on anything but the noise and the throbbing.

THAT is panic.

That is the livewire I am talking about.

Only people who live with it constantly get it.

The people who only feel it occasionally think it makes them special.

What it makes them is lucky. Live your life that way then talk to me.

Do I sound snotty?

Maybe I am.

Because this is not affectation or drama. This is my fucking life.

Day in, day out.24-7. My life. It affects the good things, the bad things, the stressful things, even the soothing things.It taints how I feel and makes me doubt myself at every turn, as if I don’t have any true emotions, everything is an overreaction to the mood swings or anxiety. It makes me feel utterly useless and hopeless.

When every day of your life feels that way, then you can talk to me.

Otherwise, your panic attack or two every ten years means fuck all to me.

And that may make me a bitch, but I will own it. I can be a bitch. And when it comes to mood swings and panic, after 29 years, I have earned my goddamn stripes and right to judge others who have no clue.

And ya know, I probably wouldn’t be this way if there was an ounce of  bloody empathy in this world for “mental disorders.”

But I was watching TV at the shop the other day, and it was coverage of this shooting in Connecticut and the elementary school kids, and they were speculating if the shooter had mental illness and if maybe anyone with a mental illness should be considered a risk, no matter how minute…and I said, “it’s more acceptable to admit you fuck sheep than to have a goddamn mood disorder.”

Most people who commit such crimes aren’t mentally ill, they are emotionally damaged. And if the powers that be had a fucking clue they’d get that.

And then  you have your Bundys and Dahmers who are just fucking sadistic sociopaths because they like it.

Most people with “mental issues” are harmless and in emotional anguish.

Yet mental illness is the first thing to be blamed when anything horrid happens.

Not “oh he was bullied and snapped” or “he got into a fight with someone, drank too much and went off.”

Never “Oh, he just decided to kill people for no good reason.”


“Mental illness” must rear its ugly head, making anyone with so much as a depressed day to their names feel like they have fucking ebola and will end up on some government watch list.

Did I stray from my whole topic?


But I’m telling the truth, and anyone who disputes it is in denial.

Like it or not, society treats people with any sort “mental/mood” disorder as less than  human.

This human finds it reprehensible because my entire life has been about empathy, dignity, and not allowing my disorders make me behave like a monster.

Even with mental illness there is choice.

We should not be punished because *some* make the wrong choice.


That should get me on some government watch list.


6 Responses to “The livewire biplolar blues”

  1. I’ve avoided any and all news regarding the horrible shooting. It’s just too much for me to handle. It’s the extremists who make the rest of us look like criminals. Like if one clinically depressed person who has gotten no help and gets turned away every fucking time they try to get help, could go off on a killing spree, well then ANY mentally ill person could!

    Don’t feed the animals!

    Look Timmy, see over there? That’s a “Bipolar”. And if you look over there, you’ll see the “Body Dysmorphic”. Careful! Don’t frighten them! Here comes a “Paranoid Schizophrenic”! How exciting!

    I’ve lived with anxiety and mood swings my whole life. Then you get the ones who have a touch of depression from a circumstance such as a death or finishing school (those kids, seriously the way high school stresses them out I’m surprised more of them aren’t the mass murderers) and go to therapy for a few months, maybe take a bit of medication. And yes, their depression is real. But when they get better and then tell us that if we do the same, we’ll be CURED!

  2. As far as “mentally ill” murderers go.. I have to shake my head at that one. If people realized the resources I need to muster the organization to get to the grocery store, it would be pretty clear I’m in no shape to plan a murderous rampage – hell, if I remember orange juice, I’ve probably forgotten TP for the third time and spend ten minutes in the parking lot calming my nerves before I can pull out… shit. I hate when they trot out all the “experts” to talk about “The Mentally Ill”

    On another note, one of my greatest fears raising my boys is that they would hate me/blame me for their fathers’ absence. My son is in his first year of college now and so far that hasn’t happened. I spent a whole lotta energy weeping and worrying that he’d feel it was my fault – I drove him away – I failed as a mother not to keep his dad… hasn’t happened yet 🙂 (I also worried they’d never learn how to stand up to pee correctly, but I think they got that figured out too.)

    I’m so sorry things suck right now. They do here to. I hate the holidays almost as much as I love them. I get a minute enjoying the lights and feeling happy, just a minute here and there, or I cook something that turns out amazing. I try to hold on to those. The rest of the time I pretty much hate everyone, have no patience, am in a constant state of intense panic that the world is crashing down around my ears… yeah, you know, just Thursday.

    • That’s just Thursday for you? That sounds like me on any day ending in d-a-y. 🙂 My therapist says it’s not the bipolar or panic, I am failing to regulate my emotions. I see her Monday. I really dislike seeing her. Because I don’t agree with anything she says, she’s probably the worst therapist I have ever had. But I keep going because I am told I have to by my shrink or else I will never get better on meds alone. I often think this “getting better” notion is their version of dangling a carrot in front of a horse. It could happen. But I’ve been on their treadmill jumping through their flaming hoops for twenty three years now and it’s just rinse, lather, repeat. I appreciate your comments and your support. Thank you so much for helping me not feel so alone.

      • I feel so lucky to have a great therapist! She’s a PhD in Social Work rather than psychology and I think it is terrific that she doesn’t come from a medical model. She’s also a teacher, so she’s pretty up to date on innovations in treatment. I don’t think I’d be able to stick with someone I wasn’t happy with – it took me a good year to feel really comfortable with her. I have to say, though, blogging is such a big help – just typing like a madwoman, getting it all out of my head (many of those I don’t post, but the writing is cathartic). Then I get a comment here and there from someone who really identifies with how I’m feeling and it’s like… ooohhhh… I’m not alone! I’m a little hyped up on caffeine, trying to steel myself for a trip to the mall with a couple teenagers… oy vey… hoping it’ll be warm enough for me to wait in the car and play sudoku! lol

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