Counseling
Tucked Away
TUCKED AWAY ~ 5.18.18
Don’t most relationships (of any kind) have their ups and downs? Moments we want to hold onto; moments we would prefer to forget?
Sometimes, in writing these blog entries and describing things from a certain point of view, or when I’m in the midst of an episode, it can appear confusing as to how I feel/felt about my loved ones. (Believe me, it’s worse inside my head.) Do you really even have to be Bipolar to understand to some degree what I’m saying? I think so, if people are honest.
Last night’s entry mentioned difficulties with my mom and dad. My mom admits to compartmentalizing periods of her life that caused her pain. They’re tucked away so she doesn’t feel those emotions. Here’s the thing, I was around during those times, so I’m kinda put away on difficult to reach, dusty shelves, as well. It has made for a challenging relationship with her, and I do not agree with her keeping me in the house that she did with my step-father. She knows this. I’m not telling you a secret. But today I wanted to take a minute to say that she has helped me in my life and loved me in the way that she uniquely loves. She’s helped me through back surgeries and a horrible first failure of a marriage. She helped me raise my son when his father left and I was working 60 hour weeks. And we continue to get to know one another in efforts to become closer. We can laugh together, too.
Now my dad. That’s a mess. I can’t describe that right now. Not well, anyway. Problem is, I thought he was one thing, and I learned some disturbing things last year that I still don’t know how to process. Until last year, even though he died when I was 15, I felt he was at the core of molding who I have become. Maybe he still is, but with the things I discovered, I don’t know what that says about me. I’m not trying to be ambiguous here. I’m actually going to begin counseling next week to try to sort some of this because it has really screwed with my head. As I do, I’ll share more. For now, I’ll say that I loved playing catch and football with him, and he taught me to play Spades and kick butt at it.
I’m thankful I have my husband and son. I’ll share more about this journey as it unfolds. Thanks to you all, as always. xo
An Unfortunate Rage
Unfortunate Rage, excellent article.
Unfortunately true of many with Bipolar, including myself. Though I do not remember such events (think screaming and throwing a fit on the front lawn where neighbors could see, or destroying a beautiful vase given to us as a wedding gift), my husband encountered them frequently and acutely for six months to a year. Finally, I was correctly diagnosed and began helpful therapy and medication.
