daniebelle's Profile
My Personal Bipolar Experience...AKA My Life
Journals
Feb 14, 2010 - 1 comments
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Can You LOVE biPOLAR [maNIC DEpression]
I read a news article yesterday evening that really struck a chord in my heart. It made me think about a lot of old worries. Some relatively new ones. You can only truly understand what I'm about to write about if you are in the situation. But you can try to imagine and empathize with this plight if you want to take this journey with me into some of the darker and more lonely parts of a woman who has been branded with a chronic illness since she was 19.
Here was the article I read:
Lovesick: Hooking up over a shared disease
Web sites aim to pair those with cancer, herpes, even Tourette’s in common
By Brian Alexander
msnbc.com contributor
updated 5:10 a.m. PT, Fri., Feb. 12, 2010
An Internet entrepreneur named Ricky Durham believes he has the answer to Valentine’s Day loneliness for people living with chronic diseases or health conditions: match them up with other people who either have the same conditions or are, for some reason, looking for a lover who has them.
Desire a bipolar date? An irritable bowel romance? A herpetic lover? A fling with a fellow Tourette Syndrome sufferer? Durham’s Prescription4Love.com promises to match you up.
Other special interest dating sites have sprung up based on mutual health issues, especially STDs. Some sites offer a twist by also promising to match parties interested in, say, amputee devotion.
On the surface, seeking out a fellow sufferer makes sense. But a romance can be tough to keep going even for the fittest lovers. How much enduring love can a shared health condition provide?
“I’m starting to think that I am going to have to settle down with someone who has a chronic illness, too,” wrote one poster on a Crohn’s Disease message board. Crohn’s is an inflammatory bowel disorder often diagnosed in young people. It can lead to frequent abdominal pain and diarrhea and, in severe cases, necessitate removal of part of the colon or small intestine and the wearing of a colostomy or ileostomy bag. “I feel like a fraud presenting myself as someone who isn’t significantly affected by chronic illness, but who wants to date someone who is ill a large part of the time?”
For the full article you can click this link:
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/35247848/ns/health-sexual_health/
People who know me, know that I'm bipolar. I'm no longer shy about telling anyone about it. To get to that point was a very painful process and had a lot to do with the main subject of the article above. But I don't want to get too ahead of myself here.
In the year 2000 after many personal setbacks from all sides of my life crushing in on me at once, I made a dead serious attempt to commit suicide. I had been seeing a psychiatrist for about 6 months before I attempted to OD on every pill in our house. She was a middle aged woman who talked to to me for 10 minutes and told me that I was merely depressed with anxiety. She put me on a slowly increased heavy dose of Zoloft. This woman was my first experience with any shrinks. You see things in movies or jokes about the couch they have in their offices and how they try to blame everything on your early childhood. The psychiatrist didn't talk to me long enough to blame anything on my childhood (well THIS psychiatrist didn't, but other psychologists is a whole other can of worms) she merely shoved pills at me and made me think it would solve all my problems.
6 months later when I was in a psych ward I found out that though I kept getting medicine that doctor who saw me once for at the most 15 minutes had left that practice and some other doctor was now taking over my case. Being in a psych ward had a huge effect on me. I'm not an outdoors person, but being enclosed by force in a sterilized and medicated prison made claustrophobia settle in on me. Even harder than the claustrophobia was getting to visit with my mom and dad then watching them leave through 3 sets of locked and guarded doors. I knew what it felt like for the first time in my life to be in a cage.
The other part of my brief stay in the psych ward that had an immense impression on my psyche was watching the other patients. I was the youngest one at barely 19. I was in a ward that handled both males and females however at the time there were only females in the ward. It wasn't an experience like the movie Girl Interrupted with Winoa Ryder (though more than couple people poked fun at me later by comparing that part of my life to that). I was only in the psych ward for 48 hours. So there were no life changing friendships or heartbreaks. What got to me was other things about these strangers. Being barely 19 and seeing these much older women with problems ranging from depression so deep that she volunteered to be committed to a woman who was schizophrenic--and constantly thought I was her daughter come to visit her. I was scared to death of so many things during that stay. I knew only one thing for sure. I wanted to go home ASAP. I may have not realized at 19 how hard it really is to die from an overdose of ingested medicine.....but I knew the right things to say to get out as soon as I could.
After I went home I had to start seeing a psychiatrist routinely outpatient. I hadn't been formally diagnosed with anything other than major depression and anxiety. The fear of the entire experience of being locked in a mental ward for 48 hours with these old women who had been locked in there for weeks or months--yet still not able to function made me promise to myself that when I went to see my new regular outpatient psychiatrist that no matter how hard it was going to be, I'd tell him or her honestly everything I could. I felt that whatever was wrong with me needed to be figured out or I could end up as one of those babbling women trapped in their own private hells with virtually no hope of ever getting out.
You have to understand that I am an intensely shy person. When I get comfortable around you, I do come out of my shell a bit. But I still very shy. So going in to talk to a doctor about my most private dark thoughts was a huge challenge. These are not things I said allowed to myself. They just swan within my own inner monologue. I'd never ever tell anybody about them. I was too afraid of being thought of as a freak to do that. But I just kept running the image of those old women through my head. I made myself remember the look of utter sadness in my mother and father's eyes when they visited me inside there. How it broke my heart to see their pain that I caused in a flash of psychosis-ridden selfishness.
Like most people in 2000 I hadn't heard of the word bipolar. I had heard the term like most "Manic-Depressive" quite often in movies and tv shows. As jokes by stand up comedians. I had absolutely no concept of what it might really mean.
I first heard the word bipolar connected with manic-depression after I'd spent 2 hours in consultation with my new psychiatrist and a psychotherapist. I did what any person would do as soon as I got home, I googled it. The doctors had explained it to me. But I didn't understand really what they meant. All I knew was they claimed I had this illness and they were giving me some very strong medication to hopefully control it. I read everything I could on the diagnosis. I kept shifting between seeing the links with the illness and my reality. Then I'd flip back into classic denial.
The hardest part about getting my diagnosis was dealing with my mother. No matter how I explained it. How my dad explained it. How many sheets of paper we printed out from various websites explaining it, she couldn't and wouldn't allow herself to understand. And because of that she was very ashamed of it. Relatives and old friends would ask how I was. They would ask if I was in college or working. Mom didn't want to lie but she also didn't want to tell them the truth. So she usually said that I wasn't in college or working. And left the matter at that. Some relatives and friends began to form a very negative opinion of the adult I'd apparently turned into. What a let down, right? The information that they lacked was that I had tried to kill myself in 2000 and was then put on massive amounts of medication. My doctor told me to not even think about working or going to school then. Before even considering the possibilities I'd have to find the right combination of medications that could help control my severe illness and still leave me a fully functional adult. There were long stretches of time where the combinations of meds I was taking left only slightly more conscious than your average zombie. It stole my imagination. It made me lose my cute petite curves by sending me into massive weight gain.
I had begged my mother to tell family and close friends the nature of my illness. I did it because I wanted to know peoples' reactions to it. I had told my own close friends. But they wouldn't have been friends if they couldn't hear me tell them and not say something kind (or nothing at all) despite whatever their true feelings on it were. When mom began attempting to explain to people what had been going on with me. What we all had been going through because of my illness some of the reactions were harsh and plain ignorant.
There was one family member who responded to my mom that she didn't understand how I could have bipolar--she never thought I had any mental retardation. She had always observed me to be very bright and smart. Even my mom was flustered by that one as she tried to explain that bipolar is a mood disorder that effects me emotionally and has nothing to do with how intellectually smart I may or may not be. That was probably the harshest reaction. But all the others were confused with nothing to say.
I begged my mom tell them because I couldn't do it myself but I needed to know what people really thought. When I found out, I was sure one fact. Danielle Marie Jorgenson is damaged goods.
There were people in my life who attempted to hound me to date or set me up. My brother asked my mother if I was a lesbian because I hadn't put myself out there dating in the "normal" and "regular" ways. I hid behind pitiful excuses because I was so convinced of being damaged goods. I attempted to not face that aspect of my life--even when I did have a possibility of a good new relationship here and there. I allowed myself to be verbally abused by a man I'd have not tolerated if I had one ounce of the confidence I possessed before diagnosis.
I went into AOL chat rooms for mental health occasionally. Or other chronic diseases. I reasoned that maybe I would be not damaged enough for someone who also was sick. I always joked at home about how stupid you'd have to be to date a person you met sitting in your psychiatrists waiting room--but I was beginning to question that logic. I reasoned 2 emotionally unstable people would be so explosive that it'd be creepy and scary.
So I stayed in the same situation. Stuck for nearly 6 years. For all but the last two years of the 6 I deflected all the talk of true love and relationships by lying to myself that I was going to be happy with a man who seemed to take delight in my low self esteem because it made me so easily turn into being the doormat every man that has this hidden flaw of chauvinistic indecency in careful secrecy's dream. The point of men like that is that everyone thinks they're great guys. Even the doormat (I.E. me) would defend him tooth in nail because it fits with my reasoning for needing to take a risk for true love while also doubling as masochistic self enabled emotional abuse.
Something changed within me during the last two years of that fiasco. I was starting to accept that yes I am bipolar. And maybe that even ***** but I'm allowing it to consume the entire definition of who I am. The whole process took a very long time as slowly I became less and less ashamed. I believe the biggest turning point was my mother finally allowing herself to come to terms with it. When she was able to accept it--I no longer had to deal with the shame she felt for me having it. She pushed me to accept that bipolar was a part of me. And I firmly believe it helped change the direction my life was headed. Neither of us understood or could have guessed how much it would change everything for me.
She helped me face the facts. Maybe it took us a both a long time, but we got there. I was not finished on the road to acceptance. But I was able to come to a new fork in the road and take a the road I'd not been ready to cope with before.
I've told this story many times. Well, I should say sections of it. As you can see this is an exceedingly long journey so this will be the first time it is composed in its entirety.
The last 6 months that I dealt with my secret chauvinist were quite hilarious for me as I realized with more and more clarity how idiotic he thought me to be. I began playing my own games as I began to lapse into total detachment from him and thinking about that much sought after and seldom ever acquired connection that is referred to as true love. I dwelled upon it for a few months then came to a final resolution. I was no where near ready for "true love" because there were still many aspects of myself that I had not dealt with yet.
I told myself that it is enough to learn about how I am and figure out what that means. It didn't stop me from once again thinking about being "damaged goods". I wondered if I could expect to find a companion, lover, & partner that would understand how what I've been through has so massively shaped the way I am? Could someone who had never had to deal with chronic illness understand what that means in a way I could live with? My secret chauvinist had showed me everything I didn't want in mate. In fact, I could create my ideal companion as someone who was basically the total opposite of him! But I knew that wasn't be totally realistic. There was responsibility of my own to bear for the emotional/verbal abuse. It only happened because of my belief that I truly didn't deserve any better.
If I was going to start the campaign to find true love in the next year or so I better not be unrealistic. Though I mused on these thoughts (okay sometimes agonized over them), I didn't see being faced with a situation where I'd have to face anything I longed for, dreamed of, feared, or worried about for a while. I needed to concentrate on being Danielle.
That is when fate decided to give me the chance to experience something that would change my life forever in the most unimaginable ways.
Everyone who knows me, knows that what the fates gifted me was my Neil.
I'm not a trusting person. I tend to believe someone is untrustworthy till they prove themselves otherwise. I have walls built around my heart that I now believe couldn't have been scaled by anyone but that right person.
So here on some bored night in September 2005 I go into an AOL chat room called Los Angeles. I knew that this room was for casual cyber hook ups and booty calls. I wasn't worried about either. I was bored and could use a little flirting/flattering pick me up so I flashed out my area code and was swamped by deviants from all over my local area trying to get into my cyber pants.
As I've said before one IM stuck out. He wasn't being crass or rude. So I shut off every other IM exited the chat room so the those who couldn't (or wouldn't) attempt a proper conversation were gone. It was just daniellethepixi and cogentlion2012 having not just a decent and good conversation, but an amazing connection. He asked for my phone number several times. I told him no several times. But after 3 hours of this "feeling" I gave in.
I had told him as casually as could be on the IMs about my bipolar status. I later explained more on the phone. I knew he didn't truly grasp what I was warning him about so that was the biggest reason I feared allowing myself to go out on that first date. Bipolar wouldn't rear its ugly head THAT night. Or probably anytime too soon. But if he wasn't going to take it seriously I was risking total heart break and rejection later. My mind kept wrestling with my emotions. I had never felt so automatically connected to someone before. I'd never felt a "spark" that this is right interfere so much with my anxiety. I'm a world class champion at worrying. I've been able to talk myself out doing more safe ventures than this one. The instinct wouldn't quit.
So I gave in and took the risk.
I have never been sorry I did. Not for one second. Even during the most painful and rocky stage of blossoming relationship when Neil got his first raw dose of Danielle the Manic Depressive Wonder. There were times we he wanted to bail. There were times when he stormed out the door and I was sure he'd not come back. There was that 1 month split in 2007 when I really believed I'd ruined everything.
He always turned back towards me and held out his arms and told me that I am Danielle not Bipolar. He will admit I have bipolar (something he wouldn't do for a while after living with me...). He knows it exists. He always reassures me that the problem is not called DANIELLE. It's called bipolar and as long as I keep fighting it, he'll help me along the way because he loves DANIELLE. So as long as I choose to be DANIELLE and not a disease of illness, or relationship stays pretty good for the most part.
Reading that article about people with various illnesses trying to connect with each other because they don't feel people who've not experienced life changing chronic illness would have them, understand them, connect with them, and when all is said and done stand by them...I know that pain of feeling that.
It is true that after a while when you're dealing with an illness no matter what it is it feels like it has consumed you and you no longer exist. You're merely a walking disease. I know that some people will actually find wonderful fulfilling relationships with other partners that are themselves suffering from some illness.
But I think it could only work in couples that on any level from conscious to subconscious see themselves as a walking expression of the disease they are battling. It is hard enough for one person to live with that kind of pain within the heart. And its harder to learn that like there is no pill or treatment that can change that illness, you can't expect another person to remedy the hole inside your heart unless you have to good fortune either to realize that you need to fill that hole yourself your own or maybe have special people (or just one person) that helps you realize the only damaged part of you is inside your own head.
You have to love yourself for someone else to truly be able to love you. Neil has taught me that. In not the exact words he's told me many times (especially at the start of our relationship) that he only wishes I could see and love the woman he does. I'm not perfect at it yet but I know that if I'd not been able to separate the illness from my own private and unique identity, I could never expect anyone else to.
-Danielle M. Jorgenson Feb. 13, 2012
I read a news article yesterday evening that really struck a chord in my heart. It made me think about a lot of old worries. Some relatively new ones. You can only truly understand what I'm about to write about if you are in the situation. But you can try to imagine and empathize with this plight if you want to take this journey with me into some of the darker and more lonely parts of a woman who has been branded with a chronic illness since she was 19.
Here was the article I read:
Lovesick: Hooking up over a shared disease
Web sites aim to pair those with cancer, herpes, even Tourette’s in common
By Brian Alexander
msnbc.com contributor
updated 5:10 a.m. PT, Fri., Feb. 12, 2010
An Internet entrepreneur named Ricky Durham believes he has the answer to Valentine’s Day loneliness for people living with chronic diseases or health conditions: match them up with other people who either have the same conditions or are, for some reason, looking for a lover who has them.
Desire a bipolar date? An irritable bowel romance? A herpetic lover? A fling with a fellow Tourette Syndrome sufferer? Durham’s Prescription4Love.com promises to match you up.
Other special interest dating sites have sprung up based on mutual health issues, especially STDs. Some sites offer a twist by also promising to match parties interested in, say, amputee devotion.
On the surface, seeking out a fellow sufferer makes sense. But a romance can be tough to keep going even for the fittest lovers. How much enduring love can a shared health condition provide?
“I’m starting to think that I am going to have to settle down with someone who has a chronic illness, too,” wrote one poster on a Crohn’s Disease message board. Crohn’s is an inflammatory bowel disorder often diagnosed in young people. It can lead to frequent abdominal pain and diarrhea and, in severe cases, necessitate removal of part of the colon or small intestine and the wearing of a colostomy or ileostomy bag. “I feel like a fraud presenting myself as someone who isn’t significantly affected by chronic illness, but who wants to date someone who is ill a large part of the time?”
For the full article you can click this link:
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/35247848/ns/health-sexual_health/
People who know me, know that I'm bipolar. I'm no longer shy about telling anyone about it. To get to that point was a very painful process and had a lot to do with the main subject of the article above. But I don't want to get too ahead of myself here.
In the year 2000 after many personal setbacks from all sides of my life crushing in on me at once, I made a dead serious attempt to commit suicide. I had been seeing a psychiatrist for about 6 months before I attempted to OD on every pill in our house. She was a middle aged woman who talked to to me for 10 minutes and told me that I was merely depressed with anxiety. She put me on a slowly increased heavy dose of Zoloft. This woman was my first experience with any shrinks. You see things in movies or jokes about the couch they have in their offices and how they try to blame everything on your early childhood. The psychiatrist didn't talk to me long enough to blame anything on my childhood (well THIS psychiatrist didn't, but other psychologists is a whole other can of worms) she merely shoved pills at me and made me think it would solve all my problems.
6 months later when I was in a psych ward I found out that though I kept getting medicine that doctor who saw me once for at the most 15 minutes had left that practice and some other doctor was now taking over my case. Being in a psych ward had a huge effect on me. I'm not an outdoors person, but being enclosed by force in a sterilized and medicated prison made claustrophobia settle in on me. Even harder than the claustrophobia was getting to visit with my mom and dad then watching them leave through 3 sets of locked and guarded doors. I knew what it felt like for the first time in my life to be in a cage.
The other part of my brief stay in the psych ward that had an immense impression on my psyche was watching the other patients. I was the youngest one at barely 19. I was in a ward that handled both males and females however at the time there were only females in the ward. It wasn't an experience like the movie Girl Interrupted with Winoa Ryder (though more than couple people poked fun at me later by comparing that part of my life to that). I was only in the psych ward for 48 hours. So there were no life changing friendships or heartbreaks. What got to me was other things about these strangers. Being barely 19 and seeing these much older women with problems ranging from depression so deep that she volunteered to be committed to a woman who was schizophrenic--and constantly thought I was her daughter come to visit her. I was scared to death of so many things during that stay. I knew only one thing for sure. I wanted to go home ASAP. I may have not realized at 19 how hard it really is to die from an overdose of ingested medicine.....but I knew the right things to say to get out as soon as I could.
After I went home I had to start seeing a psychiatrist routinely outpatient. I hadn't been formally diagnosed with anything other than major depression and anxiety. The fear of the entire experience of being locked in a mental ward for 48 hours with these old women who had been locked in there for weeks or months--yet still not able to function made me promise to myself that when I went to see my new regular outpatient psychiatrist that no matter how hard it was going to be, I'd tell him or her honestly everything I could. I felt that whatever was wrong with me needed to be figured out or I could end up as one of those babbling women trapped in their own private hells with virtually no hope of ever getting out.
You have to understand that I am an intensely shy person. When I get comfortable around you, I do come out of my shell a bit. But I still very shy. So going in to talk to a doctor about my most private dark thoughts was a huge challenge. These are not things I said allowed to myself. They just swan within my own inner monologue. I'd never ever tell anybody about them. I was too afraid of being thought of as a freak to do that. But I just kept running the image of those old women through my head. I made myself remember the look of utter sadness in my mother and father's eyes when they visited me inside there. How it broke my heart to see their pain that I caused in a flash of psychosis-ridden selfishness.
Like most people in 2000 I hadn't heard of the word bipolar. I had heard the term like most "Manic-Depressive" quite often in movies and tv shows. As jokes by stand up comedians. I had absolutely no concept of what it might really mean.
I first heard the word bipolar connected with manic-depression after I'd spent 2 hours in consultation with my new psychiatrist and a psychotherapist. I did what any person would do as soon as I got home, I googled it. The doctors had explained it to me. But I didn't understand really what they meant. All I knew was they claimed I had this illness and they were giving me some very strong medication to hopefully control it. I read everything I could on the diagnosis. I kept shifting between seeing the links with the illness and my reality. Then I'd flip back into classic denial.
The hardest part about getting my diagnosis was dealing with my mother. No matter how I explained it. How my dad explained it. How many sheets of paper we printed out from various websites explaining it, she couldn't and wouldn't allow herself to understand. And because of that she was very ashamed of it. Relatives and old friends would ask how I was. They would ask if I was in college or working. Mom didn't want to lie but she also didn't want to tell them the truth. So she usually said that I wasn't in college or working. And left the matter at that. Some relatives and friends began to form a very negative opinion of the adult I'd apparently turned into. What a let down, right? The information that they lacked was that I had tried to kill myself in 2000 and was then put on massive amounts of medication. My doctor told me to not even think about working or going to school then. Before even considering the possibilities I'd have to find the right combination of medications that could help control my severe illness and still leave me a fully functional adult. There were long stretches of time where the combinations of meds I was taking left only slightly more conscious than your average zombie. It stole my imagination. It made me lose my cute petite curves by sending me into massive weight gain.
I had begged my mother to tell family and close friends the nature of my illness. I did it because I wanted to know peoples' reactions to it. I had told my own close friends. But they wouldn't have been friends if they couldn't hear me tell them and not say something kind (or nothing at all) despite whatever their true feelings on it were. When mom began attempting to explain to people what had been going on with me. What we all had been going through because of my illness some of the reactions were harsh and plain ignorant.
There was one family member who responded to my mom that she didn't understand how I could have bipolar--she never thought I had any mental retardation. She had always observed me to be very bright and smart. Even my mom was flustered by that one as she tried to explain that bipolar is a mood disorder that effects me emotionally and has nothing to do with how intellectually smart I may or may not be. That was probably the harshest reaction. But all the others were confused with nothing to say.
I begged my mom tell them because I couldn't do it myself but I needed to know what people really thought. When I found out, I was sure one fact. Danielle Marie Jorgenson is damaged goods.
There were people in my life who attempted to hound me to date or set me up. My brother asked my mother if I was a lesbian because I hadn't put myself out there dating in the "normal" and "regular" ways. I hid behind pitiful excuses because I was so convinced of being damaged goods. I attempted to not face that aspect of my life--even when I did have a possibility of a good new relationship here and there. I allowed myself to be verbally abused by a man I'd have not tolerated if I had one ounce of the confidence I possessed before diagnosis.
I went into AOL chat rooms for mental health occasionally. Or other chronic diseases. I reasoned that maybe I would be not damaged enough for someone who also was sick. I always joked at home about how stupid you'd have to be to date a person you met sitting in your psychiatrists waiting room--but I was beginning to question that logic. I reasoned 2 emotionally unstable people would be so explosive that it'd be creepy and scary.
So I stayed in the same situation. Stuck for nearly 6 years. For all but the last two years of the 6 I deflected all the talk of true love and relationships by lying to myself that I was going to be happy with a man who seemed to take delight in my low self esteem because it made me so easily turn into being the doormat every man that has this hidden flaw of chauvinistic indecency in careful secrecy's dream. The point of men like that is that everyone thinks they're great guys. Even the doormat (I.E. me) would defend him tooth in nail because it fits with my reasoning for needing to take a risk for true love while also doubling as masochistic self enabled emotional abuse.
Something changed within me during the last two years of that fiasco. I was starting to accept that yes I am bipolar. And maybe that even ***** but I'm allowing it to consume the entire definition of who I am. The whole process took a very long time as slowly I became less and less ashamed. I believe the biggest turning point was my mother finally allowing herself to come to terms with it. When she was able to accept it--I no longer had to deal with the shame she felt for me having it. She pushed me to accept that bipolar was a part of me. And I firmly believe it helped change the direction my life was headed. Neither of us understood or could have guessed how much it would change everything for me.
She helped me face the facts. Maybe it took us a both a long time, but we got there. I was not finished on the road to acceptance. But I was able to come to a new fork in the road and take a the road I'd not been ready to cope with before.
I've told this story many times. Well, I should say sections of it. As you can see this is an exceedingly long journey so this will be the first time it is composed in its entirety.
The last 6 months that I dealt with my secret chauvinist were quite hilarious for me as I realized with more and more clarity how idiotic he thought me to be. I began playing my own games as I began to lapse into total detachment from him and thinking about that much sought after and seldom ever acquired connection that is referred to as true love. I dwelled upon it for a few months then came to a final resolution. I was no where near ready for "true love" because there were still many aspects of myself that I had not dealt with yet.
I told myself that it is enough to learn about how I am and figure out what that means. It didn't stop me from once again thinking about being "damaged goods". I wondered if I could expect to find a companion, lover, & partner that would understand how what I've been through has so massively shaped the way I am? Could someone who had never had to deal with chronic illness understand what that means in a way I could live with? My secret chauvinist had showed me everything I didn't want in mate. In fact, I could create my ideal companion as someone who was basically the total opposite of him! But I knew that wasn't be totally realistic. There was responsibility of my own to bear for the emotional/verbal abuse. It only happened because of my belief that I truly didn't deserve any better.
If I was going to start the campaign to find true love in the next year or so I better not be unrealistic. Though I mused on these thoughts (okay sometimes agonized over them), I didn't see being faced with a situation where I'd have to face anything I longed for, dreamed of, feared, or worried about for a while. I needed to concentrate on being Danielle.
That is when fate decided to give me the chance to experience something that would change my life forever in the most unimaginable ways.
Everyone who knows me, knows that what the fates gifted me was my Neil.
I'm not a trusting person. I tend to believe someone is untrustworthy till they prove themselves otherwise. I have walls built around my heart that I now believe couldn't have been scaled by anyone but that right person.
So here on some bored night in September 2005 I go into an AOL chat room called Los Angeles. I knew that this room was for casual cyber hook ups and booty calls. I wasn't worried about either. I was bored and could use a little flirting/flattering pick me up so I flashed out my area code and was swamped by deviants from all over my local area trying to get into my cyber pants.
As I've said before one IM stuck out. He wasn't being crass or rude. So I shut off every other IM exited the chat room so the those who couldn't (or wouldn't) attempt a proper conversation were gone. It was just daniellethepixi and cogentlion2012 having not just a decent and good conversation, but an amazing connection. He asked for my phone number several times. I told him no several times. But after 3 hours of this "feeling" I gave in.
I had told him as casually as could be on the IMs about my bipolar status. I later explained more on the phone. I knew he didn't truly grasp what I was warning him about so that was the biggest reason I feared allowing myself to go out on that first date. Bipolar wouldn't rear its ugly head THAT night. Or probably anytime too soon. But if he wasn't going to take it seriously I was risking total heart break and rejection later. My mind kept wrestling with my emotions. I had never felt so automatically connected to someone before. I'd never felt a "spark" that this is right interfere so much with my anxiety. I'm a world class champion at worrying. I've been able to talk myself out doing more safe ventures than this one. The instinct wouldn't quit.
So I gave in and took the risk.
I have never been sorry I did. Not for one second. Even during the most painful and rocky stage of blossoming relationship when Neil got his first raw dose of Danielle the Manic Depressive Wonder. There were times we he wanted to bail. There were times when he stormed out the door and I was sure he'd not come back. There was that 1 month split in 2007 when I really believed I'd ruined everything.
He always turned back towards me and held out his arms and told me that I am Danielle not Bipolar. He will admit I have bipolar (something he wouldn't do for a while after living with me...). He knows it exists. He always reassures me that the problem is not called DANIELLE. It's called bipolar and as long as I keep fighting it, he'll help me along the way because he loves DANIELLE. So as long as I choose to be DANIELLE and not a disease of illness, or relationship stays pretty good for the most part.
Reading that article about people with various illnesses trying to connect with each other because they don't feel people who've not experienced life changing chronic illness would have them, understand them, connect with them, and when all is said and done stand by them...I know that pain of feeling that.
It is true that after a while when you're dealing with an illness no matter what it is it feels like it has consumed you and you no longer exist. You're merely a walking disease. I know that some people will actually find wonderful fulfilling relationships with other partners that are themselves suffering from some illness.
But I think it could only work in couples that on any level from conscious to subconscious see themselves as a walking expression of the disease they are battling. It is hard enough for one person to live with that kind of pain within the heart. And its harder to learn that like there is no pill or treatment that can change that illness, you can't expect another person to remedy the hole inside your heart unless you have to good fortune either to realize that you need to fill that hole yourself your own or maybe have special people (or just one person) that helps you realize the only damaged part of you is inside your own head.
You have to love yourself for someone else to truly be able to love you. Neil has taught me that. In not the exact words he's told me many times (especially at the start of our relationship) that he only wishes I could see and love the woman he does. I'm not perfect at it yet but I know that if I'd not been able to separate the illness from my own private and unique identity, I could never expect anyone else to.
-Danielle M. Jorgenson Feb. 13, 2012
Feb 08, 2010 - 0 comments
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1. What was the last thing you put in your mouth?
the end of my pen
2. Where was your profile picture taken?
I don't remember...is that sad?
3. Can you play Guitar Hero?
You know, I've never played it. I know, I'm a freak.
4. Name someone who made you laugh today.
Neil. He always makes me laugh too hard.
5. How late did you stay up last night and why?
around 9:30-10pm reading. Neil had to make me turn out my light again.
6. If you could move somewhere else, would you?
Yes. But maybe not as far away as Neil wants to. Hopefully we'll compromise on that when the time comes.
7. Ever been kissed under fireworks?
No. But I've been kissed and felt like fireworks were going off.
8. How many pets do you have?
1 bratty cat. We are eventually going to get a dog as well. But we can't have other cats. My boy doesn't like other cats.
9. Do you believe ex's can be friends?
Yes. It's just not something I've ever been able to do.
10. How do you feel about Dr Pepper?
I don't mind it. I prefer regular Cola. But out of the fountain sometimes it is really good.
11. When was the last time you cried really hard?
At the 99cent Only store last week. I refer you to my notes entitled "Eureka @ the 99cent Only Store" if you care (which I doubt) to why.
12. Who took your profile picture?
I don't remember. I am not a camera happy person and nor is anyone around me lol.
13. Who was the last person you took a picture of?
My Cat CC. He just is so adorable I can't help myself.
14. Was yesterday better than today?
Yes. I wasn't as stressed out today. That's always a good thing. It has been a very rocky weekend with all kinds of stuff that makes for great therapy sessions (I'm serious unfortunately). But I don't believe in therapy anymore...so I'll just keep it inside myself till I explode or it dissipates.
15. Can you live a day without TV?
Easily. I read more than I watch TV in any given day let alone a weekly basis. Most the time I have it on for background noise.
16. Are you upset about anything?
Mostly no. But there are some things out of my own control that do bother me.
17. Do you think relationships are ever really worth it?
Absolutely! They make life bearable.
18. Are you a bad influence?
I don't think so. But I suppose everyone would agree LOL. I mean I've become more out-spoken about being myself then ever previously in life. Some people don't like it.
19. Night out or night in?
Night In!
20. What items could you not go without during the day?
A good book
21. Who was the last person you visited in the hospital?
Um, not since I've been in the hospital have I had to step into one. But definitely my mom aside from that.
22. What does the last text message in your cell phone inbox say?
I don't have a cell. I may get one for texting purposes in the future. I detest talking on the phone.
23. How do you feel about your life right now?
I'm all right with it for the most part. I see life getting better and better.
24. Do you hate any one?
Really, Truly hate? No I don't think so.
25. If we were to look in your face book in box, what would we find?
Nothing since I cleared it out.
26. Say you were given a drug test right now, would you pass?
Yup. I haven't even smelled Marijuana wafting into our bedroom from some other apartment in a very long time.
27. Has anyone ever called you perfect before?
Neil did once. But then I told him that I'm more comfortable with being imperfectly perfect for him.
28. What song is stuck in your head?
So Happy Together The Turtles
Imagine me and you, I do
I think about you day and night, it's only right
To think about the girl you love and hold her tight
So happy together
If I should call you up, invest a dime
And you say you belong to me and ease my mind
Imagine how the world could be, so very fine
So happy together
I can't see me lovin' nobody but you
For all my life
When you're with me, baby the skies'll be blue
For all my life
OVER & OVER & OVER....with Neil singing with me. Can you say annoying?
29. Someone knocks on your window at 2:00 a.m. who do you want it to be?
The wind.
30. Do you want to have grandkids before you’re 50?
Geeze, I hope not. If I have children, please let me have taught them to respect their bodies.
31. Name something you have to do tomorrow.
Clean, Make Dinner, figure out how my new routine will work out.
32. Do you think too much or too little?
WAAAAAAAAAAAY too much.
33. Do you smile a lot?
No. And people (even ones that gave birth to me I.E. MOM) think that it's because I'm always pissed off or am a snob. My face is more expressive than she realizes. I only smile if I really feel it. And I can't hide it or stop it. So though my smiles are rare...they tell everyone around me how bursting with happiness I am. If I smile, its because of something worth it.
the end of my pen
2. Where was your profile picture taken?
I don't remember...is that sad?
3. Can you play Guitar Hero?
You know, I've never played it. I know, I'm a freak.
4. Name someone who made you laugh today.
Neil. He always makes me laugh too hard.
5. How late did you stay up last night and why?
around 9:30-10pm reading. Neil had to make me turn out my light again.
6. If you could move somewhere else, would you?
Yes. But maybe not as far away as Neil wants to. Hopefully we'll compromise on that when the time comes.
7. Ever been kissed under fireworks?
No. But I've been kissed and felt like fireworks were going off.
8. How many pets do you have?
1 bratty cat. We are eventually going to get a dog as well. But we can't have other cats. My boy doesn't like other cats.
9. Do you believe ex's can be friends?
Yes. It's just not something I've ever been able to do.
10. How do you feel about Dr Pepper?
I don't mind it. I prefer regular Cola. But out of the fountain sometimes it is really good.
11. When was the last time you cried really hard?
At the 99cent Only store last week. I refer you to my notes entitled "Eureka @ the 99cent Only Store" if you care (which I doubt) to why.
12. Who took your profile picture?
I don't remember. I am not a camera happy person and nor is anyone around me lol.
13. Who was the last person you took a picture of?
My Cat CC. He just is so adorable I can't help myself.
14. Was yesterday better than today?
Yes. I wasn't as stressed out today. That's always a good thing. It has been a very rocky weekend with all kinds of stuff that makes for great therapy sessions (I'm serious unfortunately). But I don't believe in therapy anymore...so I'll just keep it inside myself till I explode or it dissipates.
15. Can you live a day without TV?
Easily. I read more than I watch TV in any given day let alone a weekly basis. Most the time I have it on for background noise.
16. Are you upset about anything?
Mostly no. But there are some things out of my own control that do bother me.
17. Do you think relationships are ever really worth it?
Absolutely! They make life bearable.
18. Are you a bad influence?
I don't think so. But I suppose everyone would agree LOL. I mean I've become more out-spoken about being myself then ever previously in life. Some people don't like it.
19. Night out or night in?
Night In!
20. What items could you not go without during the day?
A good book
21. Who was the last person you visited in the hospital?
Um, not since I've been in the hospital have I had to step into one. But definitely my mom aside from that.
22. What does the last text message in your cell phone inbox say?
I don't have a cell. I may get one for texting purposes in the future. I detest talking on the phone.
23. How do you feel about your life right now?
I'm all right with it for the most part. I see life getting better and better.
24. Do you hate any one?
Really, Truly hate? No I don't think so.
25. If we were to look in your face book in box, what would we find?
Nothing since I cleared it out.
26. Say you were given a drug test right now, would you pass?
Yup. I haven't even smelled Marijuana wafting into our bedroom from some other apartment in a very long time.
27. Has anyone ever called you perfect before?
Neil did once. But then I told him that I'm more comfortable with being imperfectly perfect for him.
28. What song is stuck in your head?
So Happy Together The Turtles
Imagine me and you, I do
I think about you day and night, it's only right
To think about the girl you love and hold her tight
So happy together
If I should call you up, invest a dime
And you say you belong to me and ease my mind
Imagine how the world could be, so very fine
So happy together
I can't see me lovin' nobody but you
For all my life
When you're with me, baby the skies'll be blue
For all my life
OVER & OVER & OVER....with Neil singing with me. Can you say annoying?
29. Someone knocks on your window at 2:00 a.m. who do you want it to be?
The wind.
30. Do you want to have grandkids before you’re 50?
Geeze, I hope not. If I have children, please let me have taught them to respect their bodies.
31. Name something you have to do tomorrow.
Clean, Make Dinner, figure out how my new routine will work out.
32. Do you think too much or too little?
WAAAAAAAAAAAY too much.
33. Do you smile a lot?
No. And people (even ones that gave birth to me I.E. MOM) think that it's because I'm always pissed off or am a snob. My face is more expressive than she realizes. I only smile if I really feel it. And I can't hide it or stop it. So though my smiles are rare...they tell everyone around me how bursting with happiness I am. If I smile, its because of something worth it.
Feb 07, 2010 - 1 comments
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Tags:
It has been a very long time since I sat down at the computer and wrote at any length about things that pertain directly to my life. I've wrote short bursts of anguish here and there. But there has been nothing to what became "normal" from me a few years ago when I first began blogging. I've spent the past few years posting news articles, pictures, videos that had some effect on me when I originally viewed them. I stopped giving myself to my words.
I've been trying to think all morning why I stopped blogging about myself, my life, my dreams...
I don't know why--bottom line. But I know it had a lot to with me feeling like I had nothing new to add to my all ready stated feelings. In my blogs I've written about my occasionally black depressions and my exceedingly turbulent manias. I was cycling between those points and saying more whether it be whining or bragging would be repetitive.
So here I am. It is February 4, 2010. What the hell possessed me to write today? Mostly my life is starting to move into a completely new direction. On the surface, Neil is looking for a new job that pays well. He got up early this morning to drive all the way out to San Bernardino to get certification that will incline him to a pay raise starting at any new company. I'm ecstatic about that. I won't even attempt to say I'm not. I'm being put in a situation where I'm going to be expected to take care of everything at home by myself in addition to Neil's needs and wants. The last time I was given this opportunity I blew it. I cracked under the pressure of my own overblown emotions.
I've been happy about the new possibilities that are going to open themselves to both Neil and I. But I've secretly also been scared to death that my inability to control my emotions will destroy everything. This time its not just extra money and extra freedom riding on my abilities. I know that if I blow it this time Neil and I probably won't be a couple anymore.
In the past 4 years I've asked a lot of Neil. And Neil has never failed to be everything I've needed. The one who has failed has been me. When he needed me to be strong and take care of him as he worked 6 days a week, I was collapsing into my own private hell where I began to feel overwhelmingly lonely and resentful. Neil begged me to transcend my own toxic and psychotic world...but I couldn't. I let him down so spectacularly that he moved out and left me to stew inside of my toxic world. I didn't understand at the time what was happening and why. I thought of it as a betrayal if I'm going to be honest with myself and whomever is reading this. I superficially told myself it was my fault. I probably really did believe it too. But I don't believe I understood why. Neil said back then that he loved me. Love wasn't the problem. Love wasn't the issue. He needed me to help him and I didn't truly understand that at all.
So since the middle of January when Neil told me he wants to try again to take on greater responsibility for our mutual benefit I've been so happy! Part of me has been scared to death. What if I blow it again? What if I can't be that person he needs me to be? What if, what if...then back to...how could I not be what he needs me to be, since he has NEVER not been what I needed? I've been happy, hopeful, with a streak of absolute terror running through my blood like an icy wind.
Yesterday however, there was incident that changed everything.
Neil and I took my mom to see her doctor in Pomona. We stopped in Upland as we always do so we can drop off mom's prescriptions with her pharmacist. Neil had wanted to also stop at the 99cent Only store for a few things. He dropped off my mom and I as he went to get her medicine. He gave me an amount of money I could spend and left us to it.
People can knock 99cent Only stores all they want, but there are certain things you can get at these chain stores that is absolutely cheap and good quality--Food. I find it wise to usually have heard of the brand name I'm buying from there. But I've also found it a cheap replacement for things at grocery stores that are absolutely too expensive. My mom was wheeling her wheelchair up and down the aisles. And I was pushing a cart behind her. My mom likes to look at everything! So I figured if I saw something that Neil might want when he got back, I'd put it in the cart to show him. I knew he wasn't going to go up and down each aisle as carefully as we had. It became clear that the pharmacy must have been VERY busy! It seemed like we had been in the store a while and Neil hadn't yet come back. When I was meandering the last aisle trying to find some cinnamon sugar (the BEST kind of cinnamon to make french toast with!!!!) among the spices...Neil appeared.
He was from the onset pissed off at me. I could tell by the look of exasperation on his face. I walk over to the cart to find out his problem...and he is angry that I clearly went over my budget. I tried to explain to him that several of the items I'd put in the cart I merely wanted to show him to ask him if he wanted it--meaning if he was going to be an ******* about it, they could go back. He wouldn't listen to me. And preceded to tell me off in the middle of the aisle in a very busy store.
I can't describe the feelings that flashed through my brain. First was the humiliation of him telling me off in a store like I'm a child. Second, I was beyond PISSED. I was ******* angry. And there were a lot of choice words that were running through my head to say back to him.
The only thing that came out of my mouth was a simpering and clearly sarcastic "SORRY DADDY". He gave me an even more pissed off look. At that point something remarkable happened. It was like the busy store around me disappeared. I couldn't hear anything but my own thoughts. I stood there, seemingly staring off into angry space. But I had a "Eureka" type of moment. A light bulb went off.
Neil had been tense all week. I know he has been thinking about the new job he's going to get. The appointment at 9am Feb 4th. Thinking about all that plus the future. He's been very snappy at me as a result for the past week. I realized that was why he was acting like an ******* here in the store. So I had a few choices. I could tell him every angry thought that was in my brain in response to his anger (which is normally what'd I do) or I could just keep my mouth shut and try to let the whole thing blow over because it wasn't worth getting into a big fight over.
For once, I took the more intelligent road. I'd been practicing this since Neil and I split up 2 years ago. He hated that I couldn't stop myself from letting a negative situation get worse by saying a bunch of stuff that was running through my head at the time...but after I calm down bears no resemblance to what I feel and think. Neil needed me to just not add to the situation. Like I said, I've been practicing for 2 years. And even though I still haven't been perfect, it has vastly improved my relationships not just with Neil...but with my parents as well.
Even though I felt pissed off, exceptionally angry, embarrassed, somewhat humiliated by the way he talked down to me....I rationalized that I'd talk to him about it later when we've both calmed down.
As I walked away from Neil pushing my mom in her wheelchair, leaving him to push the shopping cart...tears began flowing down my cheeks.
I began to cry.
I've never been the type of woman that cries when she is angry or frustrated. This was the first time it ever happened to me. I tried very hard to suppress my tears in the store, but I didn't do a very good job of it.
I couldn't understand what was happening to me. I don't cry because of anger/frustration. Then as we got into the car to drive home, I realized that I was crying because I couldn't help but express some kind of emotion. I couldn't yell back at him. He was too angry for me to have a sensible conversation with to express how I felt in words. So I had tears running down my cheeks.
After we got home, Neil apologized to me. And I apologized to him. Then when we were able to communicate and I explained why I had more than the budget in the cart. He smiled. Indicated he felt so bad. Then asked why I started crying--why I had to get that emotional? I told him simply that I suppose I needed to release my feelings. I didn't want to make things worse by responding in anger. So as I kept my mouth shut, I just couldn't contain the tears.
After yesterday, I feel so much more confident that I'll be able to step up and be the partner Neil needs.
Maybe one of my biggest faults going back to childhood was my inability to not respond to angry words with my own angry words.
I'm not perfect and there have been times in the past few years where I still let my mouth run when I don't mean to. But for the most part I've learned that responding to angry words with angry words makes an argument go nuclear.
After the other person and myself are more calm, I can tell them that what they said hurt my feelings. And we talk it out in a positive way.
I really think that this one adjustment will make all the difference in the world to the future (whatever that is) that awaits Neil and I. The last time he focused on working totally I wasn't able to be the partner he needed.
This morning Neil left to hopefully make a huge and positive change in our lives and future. I am going to be great at doing everything I need to support him. I love him every bit as much as he loves me. We make a good team.
Life is good =) Even when it *****, it is still pretty damn good because I have Neil.
I've been trying to think all morning why I stopped blogging about myself, my life, my dreams...
I don't know why--bottom line. But I know it had a lot to with me feeling like I had nothing new to add to my all ready stated feelings. In my blogs I've written about my occasionally black depressions and my exceedingly turbulent manias. I was cycling between those points and saying more whether it be whining or bragging would be repetitive.
So here I am. It is February 4, 2010. What the hell possessed me to write today? Mostly my life is starting to move into a completely new direction. On the surface, Neil is looking for a new job that pays well. He got up early this morning to drive all the way out to San Bernardino to get certification that will incline him to a pay raise starting at any new company. I'm ecstatic about that. I won't even attempt to say I'm not. I'm being put in a situation where I'm going to be expected to take care of everything at home by myself in addition to Neil's needs and wants. The last time I was given this opportunity I blew it. I cracked under the pressure of my own overblown emotions.
I've been happy about the new possibilities that are going to open themselves to both Neil and I. But I've secretly also been scared to death that my inability to control my emotions will destroy everything. This time its not just extra money and extra freedom riding on my abilities. I know that if I blow it this time Neil and I probably won't be a couple anymore.
In the past 4 years I've asked a lot of Neil. And Neil has never failed to be everything I've needed. The one who has failed has been me. When he needed me to be strong and take care of him as he worked 6 days a week, I was collapsing into my own private hell where I began to feel overwhelmingly lonely and resentful. Neil begged me to transcend my own toxic and psychotic world...but I couldn't. I let him down so spectacularly that he moved out and left me to stew inside of my toxic world. I didn't understand at the time what was happening and why. I thought of it as a betrayal if I'm going to be honest with myself and whomever is reading this. I superficially told myself it was my fault. I probably really did believe it too. But I don't believe I understood why. Neil said back then that he loved me. Love wasn't the problem. Love wasn't the issue. He needed me to help him and I didn't truly understand that at all.
So since the middle of January when Neil told me he wants to try again to take on greater responsibility for our mutual benefit I've been so happy! Part of me has been scared to death. What if I blow it again? What if I can't be that person he needs me to be? What if, what if...then back to...how could I not be what he needs me to be, since he has NEVER not been what I needed? I've been happy, hopeful, with a streak of absolute terror running through my blood like an icy wind.
Yesterday however, there was incident that changed everything.
Neil and I took my mom to see her doctor in Pomona. We stopped in Upland as we always do so we can drop off mom's prescriptions with her pharmacist. Neil had wanted to also stop at the 99cent Only store for a few things. He dropped off my mom and I as he went to get her medicine. He gave me an amount of money I could spend and left us to it.
People can knock 99cent Only stores all they want, but there are certain things you can get at these chain stores that is absolutely cheap and good quality--Food. I find it wise to usually have heard of the brand name I'm buying from there. But I've also found it a cheap replacement for things at grocery stores that are absolutely too expensive. My mom was wheeling her wheelchair up and down the aisles. And I was pushing a cart behind her. My mom likes to look at everything! So I figured if I saw something that Neil might want when he got back, I'd put it in the cart to show him. I knew he wasn't going to go up and down each aisle as carefully as we had. It became clear that the pharmacy must have been VERY busy! It seemed like we had been in the store a while and Neil hadn't yet come back. When I was meandering the last aisle trying to find some cinnamon sugar (the BEST kind of cinnamon to make french toast with!!!!) among the spices...Neil appeared.
He was from the onset pissed off at me. I could tell by the look of exasperation on his face. I walk over to the cart to find out his problem...and he is angry that I clearly went over my budget. I tried to explain to him that several of the items I'd put in the cart I merely wanted to show him to ask him if he wanted it--meaning if he was going to be an ******* about it, they could go back. He wouldn't listen to me. And preceded to tell me off in the middle of the aisle in a very busy store.
I can't describe the feelings that flashed through my brain. First was the humiliation of him telling me off in a store like I'm a child. Second, I was beyond PISSED. I was ******* angry. And there were a lot of choice words that were running through my head to say back to him.
The only thing that came out of my mouth was a simpering and clearly sarcastic "SORRY DADDY". He gave me an even more pissed off look. At that point something remarkable happened. It was like the busy store around me disappeared. I couldn't hear anything but my own thoughts. I stood there, seemingly staring off into angry space. But I had a "Eureka" type of moment. A light bulb went off.
Neil had been tense all week. I know he has been thinking about the new job he's going to get. The appointment at 9am Feb 4th. Thinking about all that plus the future. He's been very snappy at me as a result for the past week. I realized that was why he was acting like an ******* here in the store. So I had a few choices. I could tell him every angry thought that was in my brain in response to his anger (which is normally what'd I do) or I could just keep my mouth shut and try to let the whole thing blow over because it wasn't worth getting into a big fight over.
For once, I took the more intelligent road. I'd been practicing this since Neil and I split up 2 years ago. He hated that I couldn't stop myself from letting a negative situation get worse by saying a bunch of stuff that was running through my head at the time...but after I calm down bears no resemblance to what I feel and think. Neil needed me to just not add to the situation. Like I said, I've been practicing for 2 years. And even though I still haven't been perfect, it has vastly improved my relationships not just with Neil...but with my parents as well.
Even though I felt pissed off, exceptionally angry, embarrassed, somewhat humiliated by the way he talked down to me....I rationalized that I'd talk to him about it later when we've both calmed down.
As I walked away from Neil pushing my mom in her wheelchair, leaving him to push the shopping cart...tears began flowing down my cheeks.
I began to cry.
I've never been the type of woman that cries when she is angry or frustrated. This was the first time it ever happened to me. I tried very hard to suppress my tears in the store, but I didn't do a very good job of it.
I couldn't understand what was happening to me. I don't cry because of anger/frustration. Then as we got into the car to drive home, I realized that I was crying because I couldn't help but express some kind of emotion. I couldn't yell back at him. He was too angry for me to have a sensible conversation with to express how I felt in words. So I had tears running down my cheeks.
After we got home, Neil apologized to me. And I apologized to him. Then when we were able to communicate and I explained why I had more than the budget in the cart. He smiled. Indicated he felt so bad. Then asked why I started crying--why I had to get that emotional? I told him simply that I suppose I needed to release my feelings. I didn't want to make things worse by responding in anger. So as I kept my mouth shut, I just couldn't contain the tears.
After yesterday, I feel so much more confident that I'll be able to step up and be the partner Neil needs.
Maybe one of my biggest faults going back to childhood was my inability to not respond to angry words with my own angry words.
I'm not perfect and there have been times in the past few years where I still let my mouth run when I don't mean to. But for the most part I've learned that responding to angry words with angry words makes an argument go nuclear.
After the other person and myself are more calm, I can tell them that what they said hurt my feelings. And we talk it out in a positive way.
I really think that this one adjustment will make all the difference in the world to the future (whatever that is) that awaits Neil and I. The last time he focused on working totally I wasn't able to be the partner he needed.
This morning Neil left to hopefully make a huge and positive change in our lives and future. I am going to be great at doing everything I need to support him. I love him every bit as much as he loves me. We make a good team.
Life is good =) Even when it *****, it is still pretty damn good because I have Neil.
