Conversation with Myself

Yeah, it’s just gonna be a two post kind of day, courtesy of the whirly gig that is my mind.
Imagine a hamster hopped up on meth going round and round on its squeaky little wheel.
THAT is my mind today.
The day was pretty shitty to begin with (and it’s mostly me, I am moody and hormonal as hell) but then I picked my daughter up from school…And she comes out looking all pissed off and informs me she got put on “blue” (when they misbehave, blue is a warning) because she hit a boy.
And why did she hit him?
Because they had some sort of peppers for lunch and he told her they were good but she disagreed. So she hit him.
Yeah, it is definitely time for a conversation with myself. I’ve tried talking to others, they’re clueless fucking binary code machines.
So…this is how my self therapy goes. Exit page now if you’re afraid, and you should be afraid because my brain…ain’t right.

When did you become so judgmental, Niki?
Well, they do say you become what you know.\
How does that make it right? Look at what your daughter is picking up on.
That’s crap, I don’t care if people want to eat slugs or wear clown shoes or worship at the altar of a giant spaghetti monster. I only get bent when I get hurt by others’ idiosynchrasies.
Well, what makes you so special that you get to have hurt feelings? It’s gotta be you, because everyone else around you is so mentally healthy and happy.
More bullshit. Those around me steeped in denial, oppressed, self deluded, some drink to cope, some sleep to cope, others work themselves into exhaustion to avoid having time to think about anything deeper than what to eat for dinner.
You’ve got an answer for everything, you arrogant snotty bitch.
Fuck you.

Yep, that’s how a conversation with myself goes.
And when I got home and I was feeding the stray cats outside and some of them don’t get along so I feed each cat in a separate spot…I thought, how can someone who’s so mercurial and evil be so kind as to take money out of an already tight budget to not just feed strays but humor their temperaments by feeding them in different spots?

To which that other part of the brain says, Hitler was a vegetarian, doesn’t mean he wasn’t a monster.

The conclusion this leads me to draw is…We, as humans, are a complex species, resplendent with flaws and good traits. We can create beauty and chaos, we can give joy and misery. We are neither all good nor all bad.

But then again, some really are just plain bad.

How do you know if you’re one of the monsters?

A former therapist once told me, “Niki, if you’re asking that question, you are definitely not one of the monsters. The monsters lack the self awareness to even realize what they truly are.”

So why do I still struggle daily with the confusion between how I perceive myself and how others seem to perceive me?
Today was the perfect example.
R wanted me at the shop because he was bored and wanted to company. I would have rather had a root canal without Novacaine but I’m all about quid pro quo so I went. Never know when you might need that favor returned.
I was in a bad mood, and my bitchiness set him off. Like I even wanted to be there and if I am that unpleasant, why does he keep dragging me back into it? I’m more than content to go away.
But then his friend Mark stopped by and I’ve always gotten along well with Mark. Next thing you know, Mark and I are swapping one liners, talking about Grumpy Cat, just…meshing.
So what the fuck is R’s problem with me?
And why do I even fucking care? I don’t put this much effort into being civilized to my own family. Mainly because they are family and every bit as nasty as I am so we deserve each other.
I guess part of it stems from almost 20 years ago before I was on mood stabilizers and I was a bipolar monster, R had every reason to hate me. I was…well, improperly diagnosed and treated so even worse than bipolar normally is.
But I have turned myself and my life around in every way…and for some reason, he still treats me like I am some leper passing my condition onto him (because moods are contagious, especially that vile pms thing). Yet he keeps beckoning me because he “enjoys my company.”
What. The Fuck.

Is it any wonder I can’t get my head screwed on straight?
Simple answer, run screaming into the night.
But that was what he did to me, because the mood swings were too much of a hindrance on his life.
I don’t give up on people so easily, not when I believe deep down there is good there.
And I’m not talking shallow superficial, at least they’re good for a laugh…
I mean, I knew this man when he was not a hollowed out husk of a human being. I saw how much he cared about his kids, how passionate he was about stuff. I remember that person, even if he is long gone. I know he’s not evil deep down.
Come on, Niki, you’re living in the past, he has obviously changed and you no longer relate, just avoid him.
No, I inconvenienced him by being who I am and he shunned me, if I do the same then I am no better than him and I MUST be better than that.


I want to remove my brain with a melon baller.

It’s like I am incapable of having anything but a love/hate relationship with anyone because it’s all my parents taught me and it’s all I’ve ever felt about myself.
I like this and that about me.
I hate all this stuff about me.

How do you unlearn something like that when people find you so difficult they’re always abandoning ship?
I honestly don’t see where I am that damned bad.
Oh, don’t get me wrong. I am definitely difficult. I am a challenge.
But I have a lot of good qualities that most just don’t get or don’t see because they meet me during a depressive episode and decide Debbie Downer doesn’t work for them.
Wait for the manic phase.
I am awesome when I am manic or stable.
But that’s like driving a car that only runs properly half the time, it would piss me off.
How can I blame others for feeling that way about my instability?

I can blame them because I’m the one giving the benefit of the doubt and all this trust and they are the ones stabbing me in the back all the while telling me it’s my own fault.

Musta been sleepwalking when I sent out the memo stating “Hey, it’s okay to lie to me, betray me, get mad at me for being offended, because it’s all my own fault.”

Maybe the easiest way to break this down for myself is to compare what I used to be with what I have become. Maybe the people around me can’t see the difference because they haven’t changed at all.

1999- High as manic kite for summer, sobbing simpering pajama depression all winter. Throwing things mad one minute, hiding in basement the next while sniveling.
Unable to hold job, keep own place, or even take care of a kid for more than a couple of hours. Totally self absorbed and unaware of my own failings.

2014- Moods leveled out prior to winter depression. Depression hindering but not crippling. Able to maintain independence with own place, car, and care for a child full time with aid of steady disability income.
No more screaming mimis, no more throwing things, no self harm, no drinking myself into oblivion every night.
Recognize own flaws and trying to work on not being self absorbed and blinded by emotion.
Not sleeping constantly, functioning.
Rarely crying aside from horrormonal week.

So yeah…
I HAVE made progress.
I think it’s the people around me have just stagnated by not making any changes and the only way they can get the upper hand with me is by reminding me of who I used to be.

I still need to work on regulating emotions (though it’s hard when your hormones are so out of whack a tv commercial causes water works, I cannot be blamed for something not in my control). I need to stop vilifying people who hurt me. I need to stop having high expectations of others.
I want to be accepted for feeling too much.
I need to accept others for feeling as they do, even if I think it’s too little.

BUT I am still entitled to be hurt and feel betrayed when my one cardinal trigger has been pulled. Forgiveness may be divine, but some of us need to lick our wounds before we can get there.
And when you’ve been hurt so many times in the exact same way after telling people it’s the worst way they can hurt you…
Well, I think that entitles you to feel pretty damned salty and never trust them the same again.

I’m always growing as a person, evolving into a better form of myself. Upgrading. Updating.
But for now…
Maybe I just need to feel what I am feeling even if those around me want to roll their eyes and blame me to absolve themselves.

Human emotions are not a quiz where there’s a right answer.

So while my kid hits because someone likes peppers and she doesn’t, maybe the lesson I need to learn in there is that…robots are people too.
They’re just not my cup of tea.

And that’s okay because everyone has a different palate.

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