Enduring a bipolar Mother:-
Unsure which memory of neglect, manipulation or down right abusive behaviour to start with. . . But learning to face life with the repercussions of having an alcoholic and bipolar mother has lead me to this point in time. . .
It is a 2:30am and while sitting quietly on the back balcony, slowly dragging in the toxic yet pleasurable smoke I have just lit. The echo of silence rings in my ears until the subtle and distant sounds of the waves crashing start to drift over. The breeze carrying the gentle and all-encompassing sounds of nature at it’s best. For a moment I’m swept away and able to absorb the peace and tranquillity of this beautiful place. It feels so lovely to have a moment of relief from the emotional terrorist I have had living in my head the last couple of days. . .
The decision was finally concluded and it was time to sell everything and move back to our home town. This brings so much joy and excitement but it is bluntly interrupted by fear, anxiety and panic due to the fact it will be harder to hide from my mother. Yes strange and somewhat cruel from an outsider’s prospective to be hiding from your own mother, especially a sick mother.
The waves as peaceful and calming as they are soon become a symbolic motion of how my emotional state has been since the decision to move again was made. I feel it start in the depths of my abdomen bubbling slowly up towards my chest, as though my ribcage is shrinking and restricting my capacity to inhale. Just then a discomfort starts to form in my throat, like when you have attempted to swallow a large tablet and it creates a lodged sensation in the back of your throat. This is followed by the pain in my head from my brain over thinking of ways to avoid all traumatic yet inevitable events of having to see and deal with my mother more often. . .
I have many moments to describe to you all which I know others will find similar and helpful if they too have had to grow up with a loved one with this mental illness. . . I struggle to express these moments in dread of upheaving dormant issues I have spent years suppressing. Years of using bad techniques of suppressing behaviours such as drugs and sex and alcohol just to name a few . . . They were utilised in hope that the consuming consequences from dealing with my mother have not left me too fucked up and damaged to the point I too will become unlovable to say the least. . . I would be heartless to say that this woman is unlovable but I am no longer able to love her as a mother, I am forced to love her as she is my biological mother but by no means do I have anything left in my being to love her as a person.
As I express this it hurts to go against all that is me and my values of family and friendship. It has been a hard road and I do tell myself constantly that it could be worse and attempt to appreciate what I have but sometimes this is unrealistic and damaging. At the end of the day I want to be happy and go about my life normally without constantly looking over my shoulder or experiencing panic when I see her number come up on my phone. . . . Enough is enough I want to move on with my life without having to deal with her and all she entails.
I want the power to live my own life in peace!!
My mother’s bipolar is erratic as the alcohol causes the symptoms to be even more unpredictable. There has been years where she has done well for herself but from the age of 14 years old I have distanced myself as much as possible as the behaviour she inflicts is destructive and fucking painful to experience, no matter how hard you try to not let it affect you.
I have masses of anger and rage pent up inside which frightens me the most. It’s as if a virus has been injected into my character that contradicts my true morals and values as a person. The torment and internal conflict between compassion and survival, between the value of family and enduring disrespectful ridicule, between being assertive to be threatened with another suicide attempt.
There are many people that suggest being compassionate as those that suffer with bipolar can’t help their behaviour and emotional state. This just starts an epic battle for those that find themselves with no choice but to disconnect or distance themselves from the sufferer of bipolar. How can the hurtful and intentionally manipulative words be disregarded no matter what illness you may suffer from?
Important events such as birthdays or Christmas or any time it is not all about her there is ALWAYS a chain of tantrums, alcoholic endorsed outbursts, downright hurtful and rude comments, physically throwing things across the room, slamming of doors, moments of physically hurting others – the selfishness becomes unbearable. Each conversation you attempt to have will ALWAYS be rudely interrupted with a tale that she has had something worse happened to her. . . If you are sick with the flu she has something worse . . . if you are happy she is angry and overwhelmed with jealousy and will follow with how fat you look lately . . . . if you are exhausted from caring for a sick child then you are an incompetent parent for doing it wrong and oh by the way your skin is looking awful . . . She has told me my whole life that I am a negative person that brings drama into my life on purpose! I believed it for years and still internally struggle when things go wrong that I have brought it on myself by being a negative and horrible person. . . I am in a whirl wind of constantly questioning myself and my abilities as a person as a mother as friend as a functioning human in our society.
The anger and rage I have inside is only directed at myself for allowing her behaviour to affect me as I truly believe that you are responsible for your own actions and reactions in this world and pointing the finger at someone else to shift the blame is not taking responsibility for your life.
It hurts she will never take responsibility for her own actions as it will always be excused by her diagnosis!
To be continued . . . . . .
Stay safe and remember –
Inspire yourself, hold on to hope for better things to come, Love life!