Mental Illness Fallacy: “You’ve got nothing but time.”

When you are on disability, people seem to think that you have nothing but time. To do their bidding, to dance when they pull your strings, to cater to their whims or tend to your own business according to their time table.
With a multiple diagnosis mental health disability…You don’t have much time. The stable periods are few and far between. If you rapid cycle, the day or two you feel solid has to be relished and you have to suck the marrow from its bones before it vanishes. It’s just a fact of bipolar. For every stable hour or day, there will be ten of the opposite. Not pessimism, experience.

I am sick of being told, “Why can’t you do this for me, you’ve got nothing but time.”

90% of my time is spent in some sort of mental health corner of hellish dysfunction. I might be stable 2% of the time. That leaves 8% of the time where I am merely functioning and the daily toll means the higher I function, the harder I crash land when I shut down.

So this nonsense that you have all this free time pisses me off.

90 percent of my life is spent in some sort of altered mental state. That’s even with meds. Because they help but don’t cure and people don’t get that. At all. I had those two manic weeks last month, having depressive periods only at night. Then I’ve had four weeks of “I wanna die” depression.
I have plenty of time to be jerked around by my multitude of mental illnesses.
What I don’t have is plenty of time for stability and stable activities.

I melted down this week. I just pushed myself until I couldn’t anymore. And sadly, I was pushing so hard for the benefit of others. Seven hours on a laptop from 2002 that’s so antiquated it doesn’t even have built in wifi. All the hardware is failing, the OS is corrupted. It was seven hours of my life and all at R’s demand so he’d have a different shop computer and he couldn’t even buy me a pack of smokes. He did, however, bitch at me for not working miracles, not performing on command,and not meeting his time table. He even questioned my “doa” diagnosis even though I had it confirmed by two other tech geeks.
And not even a sammich for lunch.
Just an irritated attitude that I couldn’t pull a pegacorn out of my ass.
I ended up giving back that other laptop he gave to me. It’s old but fully functioning and gets him off my dick. (and yes, sometimes when I am pissed off, I have a metaphoric dick and people need to get off it.)Shame, too, because it was the fully functioning laptop he promised me three years ago. I have a dying desktop and that was going to be my replacement. Because Mr “seven grand in one bank account” is sooo poor he can’t spend a hundred fifty bucks for a refurb desktop.
This is not venom. This is just agitation at the way he makes unreasonable demands of me and lately I’m not getting shit out of it. Like that half hour car repair he did means I owe him my soul for the next six months.
I am not without gratitude.
But seven hours of my time wasted with him gnawing on my ass cheek the whole time expecting miracles…
Yes, I am pissy.

Then of course, I had my father on my ass about raking my yard so he could haul the leaves away. I tried to explain the chest cold and the pulled muscle and the agonizing pain so I’d do it later..And he lectured me and told me to grow up.
Fuck it’s my yard.

I also have to manage and referee my kid’s social life which involves dealing with ingrate children who have no respect or concept of rules. They are bickering every five seconds and I am trying to be laissez faiure but the added anxiety is not needed.

I burned the candle at both ends all week. And it took me four “mental health” days of minimal functionality just to crawl out of the abyss into today’s “semi high functioning” state. I sorted laundry Mt Vesuvius (keep hoping the pegacorns will fold it all for me) and I mowed the lawn. I got some groceries. Took that laptop to R Sole, not that he was grateful and acknowledged basically doing a take back. He just swore about me not being able to cure a computer that was outdated ten years ago. “It just needs reformatted.” Yes. But it has to stay on and not overheat to get that done. And the touchpad is broken. And the drivers are not upgradeable. And sometimes, you gotta stop beating the dead fucking horse. Right in front of him, I said to Kenny, “He’d probably try to reanimate a corpse than admit there’s anything he can’t fix.”
I wasn’t feeling the warm fuzzies mainly because I wasn’t receiving them. No wonder R’s girls are overacchieving monsters. I can’t even imagine what he’d be like if his own flesh and blood failed his demands.

My dad and stepmonster were here as soon as I got home from picking up my kid. I had a bunch of groceries to put away and they were insistent that I stop everything to help my 20 year old high school graduate brother fill out on line job applications. He doesn’t even have an email address. I just told them to do it themselves once he got an email. And then his mom says, well, I keep track of everything he does, we’re still his guardians, so I’ll use my email.
But I am somehow deficient because I was in too much pain to rake a yard?
Well, my dad always did favor physical labor over anyone actually using their mind to do something. Those are wussies. Real men and women do the dirty work.
Hey, I got no problem with dirty work.
I do however have a real problem with the unfair way my dad treats his three kids, and is so hard on my sister and me while basically catering to a son who obviously has problems if he needs a legal guardian at 20.

I’ve gone off on a tear. After feeling so…well, better, earlier. People seem to exacerbate my issues. Their demands and expectations are too much. I hang by a frayed thread most of the time, have no support, and I am surrounded by all these so called good people who just it so much worse.

Bygones. My day was okay, if you leave out all the people stuff. I can feel the mood shifting from functional, though. This petri dish people thing drains my battery fast and good. I’ll need all weekend to recharge.

But apparently I’ve got nothing but time.

3 Responses to “Mental Illness Fallacy: “You’ve got nothing but time.””

  1. Preach it to the ignorant swines! Yes. Yes. Yes.

  2. Well said – bloody well said, in fact.

  3. Good post! I get what you mean! Followed!

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