After my last post, while I was congratulating myself on my eloquence, this annoying little voice in the back of my head started whispering that maybe, I was being a bit of a hypocrite. Maybe I’M the one who needs to ask for forgiveness. Damned conscience/better self was insisting that if I REALLY want to be balanced again, I’ve got more work to do..,
So over the past few days, I’ve stepped back and taken another look at my life over the past 3-4 years. It’s been made somewhat easier by my off again/on again blogging, and my obsessive tendency to hang onto emails, private messages, and instant messenger logs long after it would make sense to most people. It’s also been very uncomfortable due to those same things. It’s really hard to pretend the truth away when it’s right there on the screen in front of me, in my own words…
I’ve learned I’ve been manic far more often than I was admitting to anyone – especially myself. I’ve discovered that every rough patch in my marriage, every fight with a friend, every time I was SO convinced I was right that nobody could tell me otherwise, has coincided with a manic episode. I’m able to see that my fear of medication changes kept me on the wrong medication – and locked in that mania-depression-mania cycle – far longer than I should have been. I’ve had to admit that during those episodes, I was a stubborn spiteful bitch – just like my mentally ill mother. That was a hard one to swallow. I’m still choking on it a little. Okay, a lot.
I’ve learned that saying “I love you” is easy. Saying “I was wrong, I”m sorry” is incredibly difficult – and the longer you wait, the harder it is to say. Best to say it, and be able to move on to making amends.