Friday, July 15, 2011

A little sad.

So after my huge long rant about my mother yesterday, I am still a little perplexed about her. I had to listen to some agents and staff talk shit about people with mental illnesses, among the conversation was a comment about the mentally ill not being good parents. I am mad that my husband is working full time when he is only supposed to be there part time. I wanted my damn tattoo yesterday, but his work got in the way and I can't get it till Saturday. Which prompted a discussion with my husband that made me upset.

He said that I am scheduling things badly. Well, if I knew more than 3 days a head what his work schedule would be I would schedule better.He said I scheduled stuff wrong when he wasn't working. I said in that particular case I scheduled him so he would be on the books, I knew he would reschedule. I just knew he wouldn't make the appointment himself, so I took the initiative. The he asked what the push is for the tattoo. Well I have been talking about it for months. If I don't do it now, when am I going to get it. I will get it eventually, why is this week special? Why NOT this week? And then he says it, "You're only doing it because your manic". That was it. I rolled over and cried.

Why does it always have to be about me being crazy? I am always going to be in a state of mania or depression. Very rarely am I "normal", mania is my normal operating function. Should I wait for my mood to change before I do something? Should my moods dictate even more what I should or should not do? Heads up baby, being manic is like being blonde to me. I can't fucking change it. I go on with my day, depressed or manic.

The thing is, I thought I was in a relatively normal state. I haven't been super depressed, I don't think I have been manic. I don't know. Is he right? Can he tell better than me? Should it be a big deal if I am? I thought I knew myself, and my moods. Now he has me questioning myself. Thanks.

Why does it come down to me being manic? He really hurt my feelings. I didn't say anything to him. I know I should have, but I didn't want to start an argument. I was tired. I think he knew something was wrong because he cuddled with me. I don't think he knows it was his fault. I really don't think he knows that he hurt my feelings. After all the shit talk about mental illness yesterday that I had to listen too, the crap with my mom, and then my husbands remarks...

I hate mental illness, I hate the way people act towards you when they know you have a mental illness. Even if they mean well, it still hurts.

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