The Half Hearted Misanthrope

I’ve noticed I’ve gotten fewer views since posting “Fresh Hell Begins With Human Contact”. I never began this blog for views or comments. Popularity is not my concern. But at the same time, it was never my desire to offend or alienate. While I thought my post was clear as to human contact being a trigger for some of my issues, maybe it came off as misanthropic and a “fuck you” to others. My bad, if that is the case.

Truth is, I am a half hearted misanthrope. I’ve been hurt enough by so many people that it is this power keg for me. Sometimes, I thrive on human contact. And sometimes, I feel like it makes my soul malnourished and my spirit overdrawn. And when I feel threatened, intimidated, hurt, or in danger of being hurt…I get misanthropic. It’s only half hearted. There are good people out there. I just haven’t encountered a plethora.

Anyway… My mood has been up. My anxiety is still high but with holiday and financial stress, it’s not a puzzler. The big thing is, I am doing ok. Last year at this time I was three quarters the way down the depression rabbit hole. I like this place I am in now. The prozac seems to be combining well with the other meds and while I do have low points, they aren’t as severe and the light at the end of the tunnel seems to dim and brighten much like the sun. I can live with that.

Today..I swallowed the bitterest pill of all. And it may seem asinine but it was this big thing for me. I let my child attend Sunday school. I didn’t really have any problem with it as long as I wasn’t required to attend. And the church even arranged transportation for her. This kindly older couple picked her up and brought her home. She had fun and can’t wait to go back. I am happy about that. She needs to experience things for herself and eventually arrive at her own conclusions about her beliefs.
It’s scary to let go that way, as a parent, and as the person I am.
But I did it.
And the people who transported her were so kind. They did not seem judgmental at all. So good people exist.

So do bad people.

I don’t want to be naive, but I also don’t want to be entirely misanthropic. It’s certainly not what I want to teach her. (Though she’s been under my care and influence for five years now and she has always been a super friendly extroverted child so maybe nurture isn’t everything).

I guess at this point, as the meds work properly to clear my mind of the clatter, I am able to see more clearly.
There’s bad in this world.
There’s also good.
Finding the balance is tough but you have to work at it.
It helps when your brain isn’t sending the wrong messages.
It helps when you don’t let your emotional baggage taint everything.

I feel…content.
With cyclothymia, this is huge.
Progress.
It’s a good thing.

Addendum:
I posted an hour ago. I was good.
There has been no trigger. I have eaten/drank/ingested nothing.
And I feel like I am falling down a flight of stairs, as far as my mood and mind frame are concerned.
WTF, cyclothymia?
Is it any wonder I am unstable when things shift this abruptly all the time? If this is what shrinks consider mild and not disruptive to a normal life…They’re the ones who are insane.

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One Response to “The Half Hearted Misanthrope”

  1. I’m glad that the prozac is mostly working. I hope this festive season is easier for you than the last was. I’m looking forward to not being in hospital for this Christmas.

    I applaud you letting your daughter go to Sunday school. My mum always let us make up our own minds when it came to religion. The door to the Christian church was always open to us should we want it. So was education about other religions. I know it is hard to promote something that you don’t believe in, which you are doing by letting Spook go, but I think you are doing the best thing as a mother.

    Sending you lots of love and some special truffles.

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