A Cry For Help

Recently my bi-polar disorder amplified by my hormones has been making me walk through my own personal hell every night around the time when I’d like to be going to bed. Thoughts rush through my head uncontrolled and I relive horrible memories I’d like to never remember again. By morning I’m exhausted and emotionally drained. I can’t take much more of this. It’s making me even want to turn back to alcohol just to get a break from my own head.

Last night I tried to talk to Excitement about it. He seemed in a good mood and relatively relaxed. He was just playing computer games. I thought it was a good time. Apparently I was wrong. Instead of being supportive and trying to help me come up with ways to try to get help, he got angry. He accused me of making everything about me. He said he worked all day in the hot sun, slaving so that he could provide a good life for me and my child and in return I was thankless.

“Not only do I have to worry about paying rent, electricity, insurance, keeping the car running, putting food on the table and getting you to your doctor’s appointments, now I have to worry about you freaking out because you’re remembering some stupid shit you did a year ago? I can’t keep doing this, Ogamy!” he ranted. “Sometimes you hold it together so well and I’m so proud of you and then when I need you to hold it together most you just loose it like this on me!”

At this point I was curled up on the couch sobbing. I didn’t mean to make life harder for him. I really do appreciate everything he does for our family. I tried to make him understand why I was broaching the subject. I tried to explain that I’m starting to be tempted to drink again. I told him I knew how harmful that would be to the baby and I didn’t want to slip back into being a drunk again but it was almost always on my mind these days. Bringing up alcohol just made everything worse.