Second Guessing Paranoia

Do you see what I see? Probably not. I have often noticed that my perceptions of events are not necessarily what is actually happening or being said to me.This inability to correctly perceive what others say has often times landed me in deep shit. I have agreed to do things without ever realizing what I was agreeing to and by the time I did realize it was too late. Either I went down or walked home. Considering the walk home is over 25 miles and going down takes 5 mins. Which one do you think I picked?

I have also noticed in my writing that often times what I am saying in my head is not necessarily what comes out in my writing. I can only assume this happens when I speak as well. Which would explain why people get pissed at me a lot and the majority think I am a bitch, cold hearted, and rude. While I think I am funny, generous to a fault and charming.

Whenever I am having a conversation with someone, what most people don't realize is that in my head there are multiple conversations taking place at once. You may say "it's cold in here" and in my head I am thinking "does that mean I am suppose to do something, should I turn on the heat, close the window, did I do something wrong, is it my fault that it's cold in here, do I get you a jacket, make hot tea, but what if you prefer coffee, I don't want to ask because that might offend you because I should know whether or not you drink tea or coffee, but how could I know because we just met and I haven't had time to ask, but I did open the window earlier, are you angry about that? you're angry with me because yesterday I had the window open and now it's cold in here and you blame me for that and you will hate me forever and not want to be with me because "It's cold in here". 

I constantly feel the need to explain myself to others because I am so paranoid that something I say will be taken in the wrong way. I constantly apologize for things "just in case" I did something wrong and don't realize it.The one question I ask Jigger the most is , "but what do you mean when you say that?" and he just looks at me sometimes like he has no idea what I am asking because all he said was "it's cold in here".

I very rarely comment first on people's blogs and if I do comment first, it's usually a very generic "great post" or "I totally get where you're coming from" reply because those are "safe" replies that can't be misunderstood. If I want to write a longer comment, then I read what other people have commented just to be sure that what you said was actually funny/sad/angry and that I haven't misunderstood what you were trying to say.

It's too bad people don't come with a comment box. Wouldn't that be cool? Then when someone said something to me I could just look at previous comments and know how to respond. It would so make my life easier. Ok minions you all need to get working on this. People comment boxes coming to a Tesco's near you. Fall 2012.

It's funny this post actually came about because of a comment I made and then apologized for because I wasn't sure if how my comment would be perceived. I had an amazing conversation with the person (you know who you are) about this and I am very glad I did because I think that this must be something that a lot of people with bipolar and any PD really go through. In some form or fashion. Our world spins in the opposite direction of others and it's one reason I think we feel so alone and misunderstood. At least I know I do.


Actually a thought just came to me. Something I had never realized before but as I was typing this I just realized it. Living in a world where you can't trust your own perceptions, where you are never quite certain if what you're seeing is "real" or if it's just in your head causes an enormous amount of stress, anxiety, panic, fear, uncertainty, doubt, inability to act to move forward.

Imagine you're driving somewhere and you become lost. You don't know where you are or how to get to where you're going. You start to feel anxious, panicked, uncertain. You don't know what to do. Everything around you is unfamiliar. You don't know what is safe and what is unsafe.  Now imagine living like that 24 hrs a day 7 days a week 365 days a year for as many years as you are on this planet.

That's what it's like to be me.

Where you going now?
when your world's turned inside out
isn't love what it's all about?
where you going now?
when you get to the top of the hill
gonna be there yes I will

"where are you going now - damn yankees"

Space Time Continuum

I very rarely know what the day and/or date is. Even when I know I dont really "know" what it is. I probably check the calendar on my computer 1000 times a day just to verify that it is still what day it was an hour ago and time hasn't suddenly altered course and somehow it was Tuesday at 2:00 pm but now at 3:00 pm it is  Friday. Time seems like a non reality to me. Like a moving object floating in front of me that is always just beyond my reach. I can't sleep without knowing what the time is either. I use my phone for a clock. I sleep with it beside my pillow. Where at any given moment I can reach out and feel its closeness. Having it there makes time "real" and less "changeable". I can hold time in the palm of my time and somehow keep it from "floating away". 

Sometimes though I forget to charge my phone and at some point during the day it will die and when it does I start to panic a little because I don't know what time it is. Of course I could look at my watch or the clock or my husband's phone or his watch, but those aren't real. Only the time on my phone is real and I won't be able to sleep until my phone is charged. Allowing it to charge while I sleep is also not an option. I will remain awake until it is charged and then put it back in its place beside my pillow. Only then will I even have the slightest of chances of falling back to sleep. Don't ask me why it is this way. It just is. 

I am not really sure why I feel all panicky about the time. I don't lose chunks of time but it's hard to explain the floating "time" that seems to exist outside of my head just beyond my reach. Why am I telling you this or what is the point of this post? Well I am not really sure except that I laid down about an hour and half ago and went to sleep. Then about 15 mins ago my phone died. I laid there for all of 5 mins trying to convince myself that nothing bad would happen if I went back to sleep without getting up to charge my phone, but I lost that argument so here I sit while my phone charges. Waiting for time to return within my grasp so that I can lay down and maybe sleep for more than an hour today. I wonder what that would be like. Sleeping for longer than an hour at a time. 

And you run and you run

To catch up with the sun

But it's sinking 

"time - pink floyd"

Reflection in the Mirror

is in the eye of the beholder

Look! Open your eyes damn it and look! Look at yourself! Look at what you have become! How could you let yourself get in this shape? Damn it I said open your fucking eyes and look!

 That's you. That's what you have become. Do you see that pale face with the glazed eyes? Do you see the tract marks in her arms? Do you see them? Look gawddamnit! 

That's you! Do you remember last night? Do you remember how many you did just so you could get a fix? 

Are you crying? I swear to god I will gut you like a pig if you shed one fucking tear. Now open your gawddamn eyes and look in the fucking mirror. LOOK!!

Are you looking? Do you see what is behind you? That little girl in the corner? Do you see her? Look! Look at her! Sitting there, rocking back and forth holding tight to her teddy. 

Look at her! She is all alone and it's your fault. You abandoned her. She has been sitting there. 

Waiting.

For someone. For anyone to help her, but no one came. Not even you. How long are you going to leave her sitting there?

 Alone? 

Scared? 

In pain? 

Don't you dare look away?! Look at her.

 That's it. Go to her. Don't be afraid. Go on. Take her in your arms. Hold her tighter. 

You're ready now. 

"Hello. My name is MJ"

"Hi, MJ"

"Um, I um I um.. 

I was um... my my father um..

M-m-ol.. he raped me..my father raped me and umm this is my um..

first meeting here so umm I just don't really um.. know  what to say...."

You did good today. 

Look! 

Over there. 

She's smiling. The little girl. She's not frightened anymore.

 Do you see her? She's singing to her teddy now. Look, teddy must have told a funny because she's laughing now. 

"Hello. My name is MJ and today I am a counselor here at Haven House. Looking around the room I see a few new faces and I know what you're feeling. You're scared, nervous, not quite sure what to think. I was you one year ago today so if you need someone to talk to, I am here. I have been where you are and I know what a scary awful place it is, but just know that you're not alone. You have people here that understand what you're going through and are willing to help you. Willing to just listen. 

You're not a bad person, and it's not your fault.

 What happened to you, it wasn't your fault. "

This was for a writing prompt at Studio 30+. The prompt was "Integrity is telling myself the truth. Honesty is telling the truth to other people" Spencer Johnson.

Delusions of Grandeur Pt 2

What's inside your head?

I thought I would make this a mini-series. Lifetime would be so impressed.Part One is here

For me, this symptom is one I think I suffer from the worst. It causes me to have an all or nothing approach to life. I get ideas in my head and I have literally no impulse control whatsoever when an idea does jump into my brain. I am however funner than hell to be around.

Bored? Ooh ooh let's go swimming. At night. In the ocean. Naked.

Hungry?  let's take the bikes. Downtown. At 2 am. For burgers. Ooh ooh and do a few wheelies and burn outs and then run from the cops because there is no way in hell they can catch a bike.

It doesn't matter what you mention. I will do it. Not only do it but believe I am the absolute best mo' fo' around. You say 10 I will do 20. If I can't, then I will pimp my blood out to make sure I get it done. This is what has caused me to lose my life. Not once, but three times. There are no consequences in my world. No thoughts of tomorrow. Just an idea pops in my brain and within 5 mins I will have sold my soul to do whatever bizarre, insane thought my twisted  brain decided to conjure up.

What I hate the most is not that I do this, it is that people  LET me do this. I don't get this. If you truly LOVE someone, then tell them to sit the fuck down that there is no way in hell this is a good idea. Do NOT let them jump out of the plane without their parachute. Do not be afraid when I say I hate you because you told me no. I don't really hate you. I am testing you. To see if you're real or fake.

In my twisted mind, a true friend will tell me no. A fake one will jump with me. If you jump, then it doesn't matter how much I pretend to like you. In my head, I know you're not real.

Confused yet? Try living with my brain in your head for a day.

One day Jigger and I were having an argument. He yelled at me that this was my problem. That this is the reason my life is so screwed up. We were screaming at each other, and when he said that, without thinking I instantly screamed back, "You don't think  I don't fucking know this?! I hate being this way. I don't want to be this way, but I can't stop myself."

I didn't even realize what I was saying until after the words had left my mouth. Jigger stood there in silence, staring at me. It was the first time he realized that I didn't like the way I was. That I don't want to be this way, but I don't have control over it.

I hate this part of bipolar the most. It makes me feel powerless and helpless. Two things I hate to feel. Two things that are triggers for me. So it is really a vicious cycle that I have trouble sorting through. It also makes me unable to trust myself. I always doubt if what I am seeing or feeling is true or if it is my brain twisting things. Then I feel the need to choose the worst case scenario and prepare for that. My life then becomes a self fulfilled prophecy, but my delusions are confirmed because the worst did happen. What I don't realize is that I made it happen.

Let's take a poll. Shall we?

Who's crazier? 

a.)Me for believing I could see spirits, talk to the dead, read minds, tell the future 

or 

b.)the people who believed me and asked me to read for them and based their decisions upon whatever I said including marrying the person I said they should marry?




Is it you inside my head
Is it you inside who says
That I've become, someone else


"inside my head - di-rect"

Kermit Get Out My House

There is a fuckin' frog jumping around my room and Jigger refuses to get it out. Instead he is sitting at his desk laughing his ass off at me every time the stupid little fucker jumps near me and I scream like a virgin on prom night.  I may have had a crush on Kermit when I was little but that does NOT mean he can jump around my fuckin' room like he owns the place. Dude is lookin' at me funny too. I bet he tries something when I go to sleep. 

You are hereby warned lil froggie. This is not the Arc and I am not Noah. You best just hop on down to Miss Piggy's place before I fry me up some frog legs for dinner. 

What does friend mean to you? 

A word so wrongfully abused 

Are you like me, confused? 

All included but you 

Alone 

"frogs - alice in chains"

Mending the Fences

Jigger and I rarely argue. We both are extremely low maintenance people so usually things tend to just float on by. However, when we do argue, we do it loud and proud. It usually is started by some extremely ASSanine event such as "keeping the bananas in the fridge". In reality, though it really had nothing to do with the bananas actually being in the fridge. 

Because Jigger's upbringing seems very "normal" to me, I sometimes forget that he also has his own issues. He was brought up in a very strict home where certain things were expected of him once he came of age. Marriage. Kids. Carrying on family traditions. None of which he actually did and the ones he did, like marriage, he did them in a way that totally went against his family's teachings. He has spent his whole life feeling rejected by his family. Feeling unloved and unwanted simply because he chose something different for his life.

So when I whined my little girl whine the other day, he exploded not because it really mattered where we kept the damn bananas, but because he felt I was "rejecting" him. I get that. I have major rejection issues. I ask him constantly "do you love me". My ears crave hearing the sounds even though he shows me in a 1001 other ways my ears still need to hear that sound. They need constant reminding. Constant reassurance that he is not going to leave. I need this much more so than others do.

It has been 3 years and in that time I have never really explained to him how deeply I have been effected by my past. I just expected him to know and understand something he had absolutely no way of comprehending. With this last argument that started on Sunday and has finally burnt itself out today, I really opened up to him and explained how I felt without accusing or screaming or calling names. Well initially there was some accusing, some semi-screaming, and a bit of name calling, but definitely not on the level that I usually do. It was a definite first. He learned something about me and I learned something about him through this whole process. I learned that when he says to "forget" my past what he is really saying is that "he is not like the others". That he won't hurt me the way others before did. He didn't know how to put it into words and I am so sensitive and don't talk about it, so he just was expressing it the only way he knew how. Instead of really asking him what he meant, I put my negative self-depracating spin on it. 

It's taken nearly 4 days and a ocean of tears to get there, but at least we have made it. Better late than never. 

Ohh and today Jigger brought home some bananas with him. I didn't ask him to buy them, but he knew I was out. Guess where he put them and I didn't even have to ask. It's his way of saying "I love you" without the words.

Because I want this blog to be a sort of documentation of my moods, triggers, reactions, etc, I guess it only fair to include the shitty part as well as the awesome epiphanies. The shitty part is that I have been cutting daily for the last week almost. I don't really know what started it. Jigger actually hides the razor blades he uses, but I know where he has them hidden. I use them then put them back. He has no idea. I had pretty much gone for almost two months without really doing anything, then suddenly the other day I was like a junkie looking for a fix. Yesterday that thought really hit home as I was sitting in the bathroom sliding the blade over my arm I realized that this must be what it feels like to shoot up. I never have, but I have seen enough people do it and the look on their faces and the way they react is very similar to how I think I feel afterwards. I don't know why I do this. I don't want to but whenever I get super stressed and it is more than I can handle, I instantly revert back to this behavior.

You're the one that I live for
And I can't take it any more
I love you
I need you
What can I do to make you see
You're the only one for me

"i love you - faith evans"

It Doesn't Mean I am Wrong

 "Just because I do things differently from you doesn't mean they are wrong. It just means they are DIFFERENT! Why can't you understand that? Having my every single action "critiqued" is more than I can handle. I didn't grow up in a family. I am the square that will never truly fit in the round hole even if you somehow manage to squeeze me through.

Please try to understand I am different. I like being different. My past has made me different. Constantly telling me to "forget my past" is extremely demeaning. It makes me feel as if I am somehow not good enough. As if that little girl I use to be is somehow to blame for all that happened to her, and she isn't. She is just as innocent as I am. You have to stop trying to "forget" and start trying to "accept" because forgetting doesn't make it go away. It just makes it fester and boil until it finally explodes. I am tired of festering and exploding. I just want to be.

Even if I am different, it doesn't mean I am wrong."

 
This was for a writing prompt for Studio 30+. The writing prompt was RISK. This weekend I learned to stand up for myself. It took me 2 days and several attempts before I got up the courage, but I am glad I did. It was definitely a risk worth taking.