To Break, or Not to Break

Well, after a week off of Facebook that proved to be less helpful than I thought it would be, I am now back on it. All deactivating my account did, was cause even more frustrations regarding my crappy situation.

Basically, I thought deactivating my account for a while would prove to be a good move. It was quiet and low key. I figured, since it doesn’t alert people on there that I’ve deactivated, that it was the good way to do it. So, I only emailed one person, and the rest would learn about it via my blog. I didn’t want to make a scene with a drama-filled exit. Of course that means that the complete opposite happened. As people discovered my exit, some understood my reasons for the break, but some did not. That only left me feeling even worse than I was in the beginning, which was bad enough. I took a break because I needed to be alone, and I did not want to say something wrong to someone I love. So, what happened? Well, I was indeed alone. I started raising my voice loudly on the phone to someone who I love dearly. Ok, “raising my voice loudly” is an inaccurate description. I was yelling on the phone. I wasn’t yelling at them, but they were the ones who were receiving it as I expressed my anger. So, really… there is not much of a difference. I didn’t want to talk to anyone, for that very reason. I feared something like that would happen. This person has been one of my biggest supporters through all of my screwed up life these past years, and I disrespected her in a way that I didn’t want to. I was hurt, but she didn’t deserve that. Unfortunately, I didn’t realize that at the time. My yelling did not help matters and made everything so much worse. She ended up cutting me off and said she had to go, leaving me hanging in the middle of my venting. I did exactly what I did not want to do… hurt someone whom I love.

The day prior to this phone call, I was so grateful when I received an apology from one of the persons involved with the original situation. It meant so much to receive that. It was like a large chunk of the anger just lifted when I read that apology that day. You know who you are, and I love and thank you so much. But, then that phone call happened. I was a mess after that phone call. I turned off my phone, and pretty much laid down for most of the next few days. I slept more than I was awake, and I didn’t care. It wasn’t until yesterday, after I was able to speak with that person again via email, that I started getting off the couch again, for longer than twenty minutes at a time. I explained things and apologized for what happened days earlier, and she said I did not need to, and that she was not mad at me. But, I know that I did need to apologize. I regret what I did. It’s no excuse, but I was so lost that I didn’t even realize how I was hurting her that day. Although, I don’t deserve it, she continues to be one of my biggest supporters (my mom is my biggest), and I can’t thank her enough for that.

I’m still low, but not as low as I was, and I’m relieved. My therapist has been watching me closely. I saw her again today, and will see her again later this week. As I now have a bit clearer mind to look at what happened, I can now see just how much I hurt some people I love, and I hate that. So, as things have finally begun to reach a bit better place, I am now in reflection mode. Not sure why, but this mode feels somewhat familiar. Oh yeah… it’s the same ugly place I wind up after every episode that leaves a pile of crap in my wake. The only good thing, is that it didn’t last anywhere near as long as other episodes I’ve had. I guess that says something for the meds.

I hate this illness. I had every right to be angry and hurt, and just overall upset after what happened with the whole Facebook incident over a week ago, but as I am coming down from the emotions (or coming up, however you want to view it), I know that my reaction was much stronger than the norm. As that supporter of mine said in her email this weekend, I needed to put it all into context. It’s hard to do that, though, when I can’t even judge the proper context of anything. I know the reason why everything blew up like it did, and I’m not questioning that, but what I hate is that the reason even exists. I hate this illness! I hate everything about it! Why can’t I just be normal… whatever that is? I just want to wake up one day and realize that if anything goes wrong that day, I’m not going to do a complete 180-degree flip. And, even more so, I want to look in the mirror and know that the person I see looking back at me in the morning, is going to be the same person that I see at night. I’m not going to flip for no apparent reason, and I’m not going to flip for almost every single reason. Is that too much to ask for?

Thin-skinned? Over-sensitive? Yeah, I’m both of those, but as my therapist put it today… if not for the bipolar, I would be able to handle these life experiences better. Not as if that was some marvelous revelation. But, it just once again reaffirms that my brain is utterly fudged up. I’m so tired of it all. I’m tired of the anger and the tears. And, I’m tired of the emotional and physical pain that occurs. The pain that, no matter how much I curl up into a ball or stretch as far as my muscles will reach, does not go away. It’s just inside of me, and shooting through my body trying to find an exit. But, there is no exit for it. It’s like it becomes a part of my blood and there’s nowhere for it to go, but around and around.

To make it worse, my pain becomes the pain of others, through my actions and words. It hurts me to hurt those I love. It hurts me to see the look on my mom’s face when she realizes something is wrong with me that day. When she asks me, “Have you been taking your medications?” “Are you feeling ok today?” And, I just answer with a nod, or a “yes” and move on. Or, the tears that appear in her eyes when I start crying. She’s held me a lot this last week, and has cried along with me. But, she didn’t even know why. She cried because I was crying. But, she did not know what happened. But, that’s my mom, and I don’t know what I’d do without her. I can’t do without her.

Well, I’m not sure where this post is going anymore, so I guess I better leave off here. But, first, I’d like to send some thanks to people who have been very supportive for me here this last week. All of you are so kind and have given me comfort. You have made a difference, and I so greatly appreciate it.

Cate, from Infinite Sadness… or Hope, provided kindness and encouraged me to take the step of reactivating the account, due to it becoming more of a punishment than a break. I had been wondering if I should, but in my state of mind, I was not thinking clearly at all. So, to see her words stating that I “don’t deserve punishing Summer”, was so comforting. I also thank Rachel from My Bipolar Life for her caring support and encouragement of reactivating too, if I felt it was best for me. In addition, I thank all of you who have supported me so much with your kind words, encouragement and overall comfort of listening this last week. In no particular order, Graham, Angel, Aimer Shama, Crazybeanrider, Kathy, Rainey, and my wonderful friend, Lisa.

Also, I apologize for not being a very active reader this last week. I’m moving slow, but trying to get caught up on my reading of blogs again.


*Here’s a song that I’ve been listening to a lot this week. I love Brett Dennen, and his lyrics always hit home with me.


8 thoughts on “To Break, or Not to Break

  1. Summer, Those that know and love you have done their research, I am sure. i learned long ago to tell the difference when my daughter, J, was talking to me or when her alter, Bipolar Betty, was speaking. This person you yelled at….knows. She knows. And she did the right thing by cutting you off and hanging up. That protected you both from her having a normal human reaction of yelling back or being upset. Instead, she probably thought: “This is not how Summer usually acts toward me. She is having a tough time, but I cannot handle this right now. I’m going to hang up and let her calm down.”
    Much hugs, Rainey

  2. I have always been so ultra sensitive. If someone even looks at me the wrong way I can cry. :/ Frustrating. I’ve always viewed myself as so weak because of it. I hate it. Its like I always make a big deal out of nothing.

    • It is indeed very frustrating. And, I can completely relate to the feeling weak. It’s such a horrible thing. It doesn’t help that it feels like there just isn’t any control over the reactions that come either. I’m sorry that you have to deal with that too. Thank you for both sharing and your comment. I appreciate it.

  3. It’s so hard when we struggle so much with ourselves to always know how to be in connection with those we are close to. It sounds like your friend was very wise and is well worth hanging onto (tight). I think we could all do with a friend like that.

  4. Aw, you’re so welcome Summer.

    I totally feel you when you say that you hate bipolar disorder. It isn’t fair, it is so unfair and sometimes I think it’s OK to let ourselves feel a bit like this.

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