These are my thoughts. They are not meant to make sense. They are my echo into the woods. I am the tree that falls, and it is here that I make a sound.
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Tuesday, August 23, 2005

Hoof in Mouth

Example of how much I've been talking about things I shouldn't:

The entire office now knows I have my navel pierced. Considering the weight I've gained, they all look at me like: "ewwwww. PLEASE don't show it". Trust me, it looked better three pant sizes ago.

I've had it for about 10 years (a bit ahead of the curve of all the cool people, which I guess makes me lukewarm).

My boss, (not the one I worked for years ago, the other one) has been saying about various people that he almost hired in years past, "I wanted to hire them because of x, y and how smart I believed them to be. But since then, a and b have happened to make me realise they aren't as smart as I thought they would be".

My boss, when he walked into the conversation I was having regarding the navel ring said "YOU have this done?". I said yup. I told him how long ago it was and he just looked at me and said "so you were old enough to know better".

So now I've got it in the back of my mind that he is thinking the same thing: she's not as smart as I thought she was (which bothers me intensely).

As well, last night I got a phone call from my cousin (who I call my aunt - she's my mom's first cousin and only a few years younger than my mom), asking if I was going to her daughter's wedding, the second weekend in September. I froze. I totally forgot to send in the reply card. Well, not totally. I've been debating about going but I'm so ashamed of my appearance that I cannot handle being with family. I've backed out of at least 4 family engagements this summer because of it. And it's a domino thing: hate the appearance, which heightens paranoia, which richochets through days following any such event. I don't want that instability, so I avoid them.

But after I hung up, I sat on the couch and cried for a few minutes. Out of the clear blue sky, the tears came, quietly. I was so sad that I've come to a point where I can't face my family. I debated sending this big long email to my cousin (her daughter, who is getting married), explaining about being bipolar and being in a not-so-good-for-social-events place right now, but I wish her all the best, and then I thought, no, she's going to read it and think, wtf??? and then I thought I'd send one to my other aunt, the sister of the first one, who knows I'm bipolar and explain it to her, and ask her to pass on the message, but then she's the kind of person who will then immediately phone me and want to talk, and I can't do that, talking on the phone I DON'T want to get into. But then I told Rob I was sad and why and he said, hey, you've been feeling so good, don't let that take you down, and I thought, true. And within 5 minutes, it was almost gone. Like it never happened. I still feel a bit sad about it now, as I type, but not like last night with the tears and feeling so pathetic.

And the final thing I forgot to say: I found myself telling the goalie of my Sunday night hockey team about being bipolar. Turns out she took lithium as a teen (she's in her mid-to-late 40s now). I told her that I couldnt' go to the Jack and Jill for another player and her fiance in September because it's late and I have to take medicine then that makes me pass out. She asked what meds they were and I said there were two, valproic acid and another one. She said oh so those two make you even? and I said well the one does and the other controls other things and it's very important that I take it. She asked what it was and I said it was an anti-psychotic (the Seroquel). She did a start and then said (subconsciously moving a bit away from me, I don't even think she realised she did it) "WELL! You better take that one alright!" I laughed and said yup, I need to.

Now....why am I telling her all this?


The heifer's got hoof in mouth disease.

And this is another thing that I DON'T want to do in the interview with the 2nd opinion doc in two weeks: I don't want to babble away.

I guess that I'm kind of hoping I can go in there under such control he's going to say that the entire diagnosis is incorrect and I'm just a busy person (rather than manic).

A girl can always hope.

Blogger sansanity said...
well i guess i am lucky. my mom was always anti-social as i grew up so people did not expect us to show up at anything. the family assumes i am the same way (and i am) so no one invites me anymore.

hell i hate to even get dressed and go to visit mom. she always says "why are you wearing that?" and then she takes me shopping and buys me something hideous and matronly and then tries to convince me to wear it right then and there.

AND YOU WILL NOT BELIEVE WHAT I DID TODAY! I told the guys at the car repair shop that i take prozac. one asked me "what's that for?" when i said depression i noticed he no longer seemed intent on getting a hug from me. luckily the one i was hugging didn't let go so i dind't feel as bad. and then ofcourse started all the questions, "how long have you been taking it? how can you be depressed?" i couldn't even begin to explain to them that what they usually see is a persona i have created to hide the fact that i have such social anxiety.

ah damn, now i have been babbling on your blog. so sorry. lol!  

Anonymous Anonymous said...
I really believe you are my other personality. Why dont we just combine blogs? It will save all that writing. Holy shit you're scaring me.  

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