Definition of Episode: an incident, scene, etc., within a narrative, usually fully developed and either integrated within the main story or digressing from it.
Okay, the god damn dictionary wins tonight, I lose. Last night I lost, seriously. I almost lost it all, yet again.
I'm sure you read, and if you did not, I think you should. I find it amazing! The clarity of purpose I had last night as I was writing is astonishing to me. It's almost as if I believed Ben left on his own accord last night. I almost believed I had done nothing wrong at all, that he was mean and was looking for an excuse to leave me. I blamed work and lack of time, as well as distrust on what was happening. I even said I left the situation so I didn't erupt, that I didn't feed it. Wow, I really justified myself, huh? Bet you thought Ben was stressed and moody, didn't you? I can make you believe anything I think is true. I write my truth, remember? My truth last night was skewed and distorted. I was in the middle of an episode. I have never written before while in the middle of a tantrum. It's shocking to me to go back and read the words I let so easily fall onto the screen.
I woke up this morning and thought my right thumb was broken. Then, I thought it was sprained. Either way, it is just bruised, no big deal. The big deal though, is how the fuck did that happen? I can't remember how I hurt myself. I was out of my mind and away from my skin last night.
I know many people will blame the fact that I was drinking last night as the reason for my outburst. I understand why you might assume that, and I can't say it didn't play some role in the chain of events of the evening. However, I just want to point out the fact that I freak out without cause or reason, sober or drunk, happy or mad. I haven't found any pattern or rhyme to it. I know it has to do with control, but in what way? I can't control Ben's job or his time. He can't set a schedule for himself and give me absolutes, nor can I ask for it. Is that the problem? I really can't figure it out.
Ben walked in the door when I was getting up to get ready for bed. He had taken his phone battery out (as we know, because I barely stopped myself from throwing it at him), so I hadn't spoken to him or seen him for an hour or so. I exhausted all efforts to find him at that point, and I was giving up. I had called Avalon, called Noah, and sent Susan mean messages again. He wasn't any of those places. I thought maybe he had gone to an ex-girlfriend's house or to his new lover's house. I became angry and enraged (again) the moment I saw him. I also felt immense relief that he had come home to me.
I pushed him and pushed him. I demanded to know where he had been. I accused him of things. He tried to speak to me rationally, but I was beyond control. He wanted space, and I was unwilling to give it. I followed him around the house and berated him. I, looking back, was verbally abusive toward him. That wasn't who I wanted to be. It's never the parter I strive to be. I just wanted love. I wanted to feel loved. I know, though, that no matter what, it wouldn't have been enough. He could have done everything I was asking him to do, and I would still be fucking crazy.
I finally realized I wasn't going to win. I went to bed alone. However, as I walked into our room, I unplugged the wireless router for the computer. HA! Now he'd have to come in and see me. He'd need the computer, right? Needless to say, he didn't come into our room. He slept on the couch. He's too smart to feed into my insecurities and demands when I am having an episode.
Today, when I awoke, I was feeling rather normal. I wasn't upset with him, I had no accusations. I just felt guilty and ashamed. I knew I had been the "crazy girl" again last night. I hated myself for it. I woke Ben and had him go to our bed, as I was getting the kids up for the day. He spoke to me calmly, yet with brutal truth. I had hurt him. That Mel, crazy Mel, is not the Mel he loves. He is afraid of her. Afraid for himself and for my children.
He did not want to tell me where he had gone last night because it's the only place he has that I can't find him. He was afraid that if I knew, the next time I had an episode I would wake my kids and drive to him. He's got a valid point. It's not beyond what I'm capable of at times like that. He said he was trying to help and appease me last night, that I kept making ultimatums and putting demands on him. Each time he'd do what I asked, I make another, more deliberate demand. I was trying to control him. In whatever way I could. Remember how I removed myself from the situation and went into the kitchen? Well, I neglected to tell you I was screaming the same words (I'm not going to fight! You're being mean! I don't want this!) over and over again. I had removed myself? right.
Ben left and didn't tell me where he had gone because he knows what to do. He knows that if he leaves, I'll eventually sleep. He knows I'll wake up the next day and be "me" again. So, what the fuck makes me lose it? I know it's a lack of control, but in what area? Is it any area I perceive as important at the moment? Maybe it's a combination of hurt and fear and anxiety, along with a lack of control. Something puts me over the edge. That's for damn sure.
I woke this morning and re-read the blog I posted last night. It's almost frightening how sane and put together my writing seemed to be. I wasn't sane. I wasn't put together. In my mind, however, I was. Nothing was my fault. I had a lot of time to think about it while sitting in the ER with Garrett's "W" problem. Lots of time.
Ben will be home sometime tonight. Sometime between now and midnight or one or two or.... I can't control that. I really wish I could though. At least tonight the house is clean and the kids are in bed, and I'm feeling relaxed and ready to sleep... I think I'm just going to go to bed.
Episodic. It's a word. And... as long as you know that it is "episodal".. it isn't you. YOU are who you strive to be, not the episodes that occur. Move on, apologize, and continue to strive to be the woman you want to be. Because that woman is beautiful. I know.
ReplyDeleteI couldn't find that word in the dictionary:) I strive each day to learn more about myself. Thank you for your kind words.
ReplyDeleteI posted a comment on your piece about stopping your SSRI meds, but I don't see it, so either it didn't make it onto the page or you deleted it. In it, I questioned why you would stop taking them, if they allow you to live a more "normal" life. After reading this, I would ask the same question again. It seems like you went off the drugs and now you're falling apart. How much of your perceptions of your fight with Ben are due to your brain chemistry being out of balance? How differently might the night have gone if you had stayed on the meds? I understand not wanting to be addicted to a drug, but would you refuse insulin if you had diabetes? Blood-clotting drugs if you had hemophilia? If you have a medical condition, treat it as such. I would argue that you have a responsibility to yourself & everyone in your life stay on the meds if they help. I don't see it as weak to need help. I see it as strong to accept the help you need to live the best life you can.
ReplyDeleteI have another friend who is manic-depressive. He takes meds. After a while, he feels good and in control, so he decides he can handle going off the meds. He does. Then he spirals down into depression and lethargy and when he becomes suicidal, he starts taking the meds again. I have seen it happen over and over, and his friends can't seem to get through to him that he is better off on the meds. I'd like to not see this happen to you.
Stay on your meds...get off the alcohol before it's too late. You can call your episodes whatever you want but they will destroy your life until you do what is necessary to stop the destruction.
ReplyDeleteThank you for your comments. I'd like to help others understand why I decided not to take medication (more in depth than before). To answer both questions from my anonymous posters, the meds didn't stop the episodes. To be quite honest, my "episodes" were more intense as well as more frequent before I stopped taking them. I know it sounds slightly illogical, but I can and will explain it in detail.
ReplyDeleteAlso, I have never deleted any comments from my blog. I have been changing things around, so maybe it's in a different area? The only comments I have received in that regard is the one posted on the SSRI blog. I'll look for it!