Back to the future…

 

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Yesterday therapy was painful. After lots of honesty and candid talking, the conclusion came as such a shock. Old label replaced with new. But not just one but two.
Regression is evident. Tablets are to be reviewed and adjusted. Now again will be discomfort, anxiety, headaches, insomnia and irritation. I feel like my world is crumbling to my feet right before my eyes. More anxiety for the family. More for hubby to have to deal with. I hate bi-polar 2.
But I hate my two new enemies even more.
Bi-polar 1 and BPD absolutely positively and passionately

 HATE and DESPISE you!

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Not my proudest moment

More me the same. Seeing what’s not there. Believing what I’m not seeing. Attaching anything to these dark feelings. Not even aware of they there, hovering under the surface, waiting to pound just when things are going well. Self-sabotage seen to be my destiny. Not very proud of myself right now. 😦

 

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the Bi-Polar Express

 

 

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This morning while I was busy marking, something caught my attention on television. The program was about Bi-polar 2 disorder.

It could have easily been me sitting there being interviewed by the presenter. Everything rang true. (Echoed loudly.]

It was frightening, terrifying. For the first time I saw my life from the outside and looking in and it did not paint a pretty picture.

The interviewee unravelled my darkest moments filled with despair, pain, fear and confusion. Where in those dark moments I am laden with guilt of how I am torturing my loved ones. How I  often embarrass myself and those around me uttering inappropriate and offensive things. I  often hurt and offend all people I deal with. He spoke about the anger. The need to inflict maximum damage. The fact you know you should stop but is not able to do so.

The outbursts followed by being totally depleted of energy and the will to live.

Closely followed by desperate thoughts and planning of suicide and how you dying will be a gift to the world. Then comes the paranoia. Not trusting anyone. Even doubting yourself. Believing that you are a problem. You are seen as an invalid. You find it hard to believe those who claim to love you. You believe that they see you as sub-human and pitiful. You believe the world is out to get you and against you.

Then comes the self-pity. You feel sorry for yourself.  You feel this great injustice God, the world, the universe have done unto you. You feel ugly. You want to crawl into the darkest hole and never ever emerge from it again. Life becomes hell. Breathing becomes effort. Sleep become an escape and work becomes impossible.  And all you can do or have the strength to do is, to wait it out.

Wait till the next high or manic stage comes and you can feel somewhat human again. But mania comes with serious delusions of grandeur and false confidence. You feel you can move mountains. You start something new with all the energy you have inside. You obsess about this new venture. Then after a while (depending how long the mania lasts, you loose interest resulting in feelings of uselessness and failure.

And so the viscous cycle begins all over. Darkness and despair at forefront of this hellish circle of my life.

fear panic pain

 

All this makes no sense. I am an  intelligent , well read, experienced, pleasant, educated person.

I am likeable and loved by everyone I encounter. My children respect me and my husband loves me, more than anyone else and also unconditionally. So if I have so many people in my corner and husband who always puts me first and still after 19 years, see the girl he married. If I have a friend and sister- wife who loves me  as her own sister if not more than a biological sister. If I have siblings a mother, mother in-law, friends and acquaintances that wants me in around an in their lives.

Why do I so often feel I am not deserving of this world. Of the love that is so freely and effortless given to me.

Watching this programme was such an eye opener. Reality check if you may. But most of all is the deep-rooted anger for being the the victim being punished for another’s past crimes. Crimes perpetrated against me. Crimes that went unpunished, so it is being paid forward to me.

Unfair!!!!

This anger I feel is further fuelled by immense sense of hopelessness and fear.

So many questions…

Why me?

What did I do ?

When will it get better?

Will I go insane eventually?

Will I get dementia as mentioned on the TV programme,

 

I would rather die, before I become a blabbering burden on my family.

 

I HATE THIS DESEASE!!!

The lost generation

 

Everyday I come to work, to school, dreading the day. Dreading the ill-mannered learners I have to deal with.

And even though it’s not all of them, the ones that are troublesome have the ability to bring you to your wits end.

Ill-mannered does not begin to describe them…

The coloured children who make themselves guilty of misbehaviour are disrespectful, disruptive , aggressive and down right audacious. They are fearless and have no problem challenging you in an aggressive manner showing no regard for the fact that you are the educator as well as an adult. They disrupt the teaching and learning process and appear to be untouchable. No discipline measures have any effect on them, not even the threat of suspension or expulsion has any effect.

The black learners are still victim to the past of oppression as they still cling to racial marginalisation that unfortunately is still evident between the different race groups of the school population. The irony is that Apartheid has been abolished for over 17 years and with most of them not older than sixteen it becomes ridiculous that this kind of mind-set exists with children who never lived it and was not even born when it came to a close as a policy of law.

These children are all victims of their circumstances. Result of parents not caring and teachers having given up on them. They come here to school because they have to. Because they have nowhere else to go and nothing else to do.

For some it is an opportunity to at least have one meal, often the only meal, from the feeding scheme, for the day. For others it is a means of avoiding adult responsibilities like caring for the sick and the younger ones at home. And for some it is a means to avoid chores.

Many of not all of them come from violent poverty stricken homes where their caregivers are submerged in their lives of  cheap drugs and liquor, inappropriate sexual behaviour and violence. And very often these very children also falls victim to these vices and even victims of these evils.

These children come to school and try as much as they can to not let the world see where they come from. What they come from and how much they hurt. But sometimes all this pressure and pain becomes too much and they become rebellious, challenging educators and acting out in class. Very often dragging a few weaker ones with them. And before you know it in attempt to stop the disruption of your class and to contain the learner, you as the educator becomes part of the abusive cycle. Be it by lashing out,giving a few cuts or even sling a few insults. Such is how the saviour becomes the aggravator, leaving this child with no-one to go to. Leaving the child with even less support, perpetuating, accelerating and aggravating the already aggressive, challenging and disruptive behaviour.

And what is then done. The victim (the child) gets punished further by means of detention, suspension and sometimes even expulsion which more often than not, results in the child becoming a vagrant or gang member and get  involved with drugs and liquor. With nobody taking responsibility for their part in this downward spiral.

So the cycle continues and is perpetuated by irresponsible parents and uncommitted educators.

A whole generation lost and ready and waiting for the next one to be failed and let down.

So sad…

A+ for A-wipe

This week was harrowing, to say the least. Report cards needed to be reprinted due to errors, learners were at an all time rude, rollercoaster resumed and then my phone was stolen.

But was, is indeed the operating word, because as soon as we were all home, everything was well. The love enveloped me and I felt safe and  wanted.

However darkness did loom in the form of little M’s father…(henceforth referred to as A-wipe)

While I was waiting for my eldest son to finish his driving lesson, I visited with my uncle whose place of business is close by. Hubby and Sis came looking for me and Sis and I took Little M out to McD’s. We both felt that he needed a treat after A-wipe failed once again to come fetch M to spend the weekend with A-wipe.  M goes to A-wipe every second weekend. But this weekend A-wipe had his own agenda and took off for the weekend to a holiday destination five hours away. And then in his normal manipulatory fashion he tells little M that he did in fact tell Sis that they are swopping weekend so that M can go to the school’s cycling race on Sunday, but fails to mention that Sis clearly responded in saying no to a swop.

The disappointment on little M’s face when A-wipe told him he wont be coming to fetch him and that he is five hours away, was so painful. M was trying to be so brave and literally begged A-hole to come fetch him and that he can wait five hours.

“I’m sorry my boy. Daddy is so sorry, but daddy won’t be able to come fetch you. I’m too far away” says the a-wipe who is fighting to have his son with him.

Why not take your son, that you see so seldom, with you for the weekend and give him some sense of  family when he is with you. Oh but i forget being a parent, family includes feeding, bathing and caring for a child and there he falls way short. Because according to M there is no fridge, no food, no soap, toothpaste or toothbrush at A-wipe’s house. And then he wants M there all the time. The poor child will also turn into a long haired, black wearing hobo like A-wipe. Thank God for his grandmother who fills in the lack of parenting, hygiene and love that lacks with A-wipe.

On this side of the world, our lives are planned around little M. Outings can only occur when he is with us. Birthday celebrations are arranged around  where he will be on the weekend. Everyone takes responsibility for homework, playtime, bath time and meals. He never goes short of love and caring and is one of the main priorities in our home. Often meals get planned around him and he gets a treat by having his favourite dish cooked. He is the baby in the house and get treated as such together with all the tolerance, privileges and spoiling that goes with being the youngest in the house.

A- wipe can definitely not say the same.

But he should not rest easy. The clock is ticking against him. M are beginning to clearly state his preference and desires. Like telling A-wipe that he cant come fetch him next week as it is his oldest (step) brother;s birthday and he really don’t want to miss it. What could A-wipe say without coming across ass the villain. NOTHING!!!

In your face, A-wipe! 

TICK TOCK…..

fading…

here alone and lonely

This week have been tough. I went through an uncomfortable amount of  uncomfortable emotions. Stressed about a new dimension of my condition sticking its head out.

Just when I am able to identify the paranoia and irrational thoughts and feelings, a new demon sticks its head out.

VOICES!!

I hear voices!

Not my own voice in my head, but other voices. repeating words over and over again.

Voices form the past having conversations, fortunately not with me but still clear enough for me to hear and understand.

And as much as some will find it funny, it does sit nicely with me.

It is scary, terrifying.

Is this condition progressing; getting worse.

Become a burden on my family

An embarrassment

Will my children eventually loose their mother

My husband loose his wife.

Will the curse of my past eventually  destroy me

Take away the only thing I could salvage,  what was left of me

maybe the idea that I had my husband take another wife for when I no longer can be a wife and mother.

maybe this is just another way Allah is looking out for me by protecting that which is most precious to me.

A future, planning, looking forward…

is not for me

so the best i can do is to live in the moment and make the best of the time I still have.

And even that is perilous and painful.