Parenting As a Trigger

I’ve written about triggers and how important it is to find them and avoid them so we can avoid the next looming episode. I just had my daughter and her fiancée over for dinner and to give them a few directions on training their puppy. I thought they were open to listening to what I had to say, that maybe they respected the way I’d trained my dog (with a trainer for $!000, real training) and were ready to listen since their puppy is pretty out of control. I was excited all day that they were coming over and that they wanted to know what I could teach them.

I shouldn’t have made that assumption. It was trigger city.

The first thing that went wrong was that Sydney (daughter) didn’t tell Toni that her lipstick wasn’t surviving dinner well. Toni got mad and stalked off to the bathroom.

Then we talked about training their puppy that they have labeled as a “service animal” and that they’ll need a “choke” chain to train her. Toni got on her self-righteous soap box and informed me she wouldn’t ever choke her dog. Using their harness and flat collar was going to be fine. Maybe. But that’s not what the experts taught me. With puppies this age (4 months) treats are the preferred method, but she’s going to get bigger very fast.

Also I don’t appreciate her lack of thanks or respect. Sydney already disrespects me like while she came in the kitchen and busted open cheddar cheese crackers I bought for her brother and started eating them by the handful even though dinner was nearly done and I had told her they were for her brother. It amuses her to make her brother’s life more difficult. The problem is I paid for that food. Not her brother.

They’re gone now. The puppy pooped on my carpet. I’ve loaned them my training book and dvd. They didn’t say thanks for either one. I suggested they buy their own and they said they probably couldn’t afford it. I know they can. They just got their financial aid from school. I’m not going this quarter so I don’t have any new income.

Now I’m sad. I took a chill pill before they got here and I’m glad I did. I can’t imagine how I’d feel if I hadn’t.

I was going to try to keep my post short tonight, but I’m not feeling super fabulous.

It makes me wonder what kind of mother I really was. I’m going to stop myself from ruminating over this tonight. That will just make things worse.

Maybe it was minor. Maybe I’m over reacting. It’s what I do. I’m sad and feel unloved.

I done been triggered.

Whose Crazy Now?

I want to tell you a true story that is taking place in my life and the lives of those I love right now. I’m changing everyone’s name but my son’s and my own to be polite. If you think you see yourself, congratulations.

As you turn onto our road and begin to slowly pass the mailboxes on the left you may notice two duplexes on the right. We live in the first one on the right. Once upon a time, Misty and her son DJ lived in the first house of the second duplex. That’s how we knew them. We were just neighbors. Over time our sons got to be friends and over the years have remained so. I’ve never cared for Misty, DJ’s mom. She treats her kids poorly and is just mean. When she and her son would wrestle when he was young she would grab onto his balls and hang on. Okay she’s like half his size, but that’s not an okay thing to do to your own son.

Let me paint you a picture of the woman. She had some friend of hers staying with her for a while. They got drunk, as they often did, and Misty threw the other woman out of the house. The other woman came to my house. It was the middle of the night. Why my house? I don’t know. I didn’t know her. She was drunk and begged me to let her send the rest of the night. What was I supposed to do? We live in the middle of nowhere. There was literally no place for her to do. So I let her in to sleep on the sofa.

I had been saving some of those mini bottles of booze for several years. They were sort of decorations. She found them and drank them all. She cried hysterically and carried on about things you carry on about when you’re drunk and talking to someone you don’t know. In the morning she left.

That day I got a phone call from my landlord, who was also Misty’s landlord, asking if I had a new roommate living with me. I’m like excuse me? No I don’t. (The woman had been staying at Misty’s for several weeks.) Misty had called our landlord to get me in trouble for letting her friend in my house.

This is who Misty is.

DJ and his girlfriend Sienna live with his cousin and two other people in a house about 20 minutes from here. After knowing DJ’s cousin, Maryanne, for more than two years Kyle and she noticed each other and started dating.

-skip ahead three months-

DJ and his girlfriend Sienna and Maryanne and Kyle have decided to move out and get a place to rent together. Kyle agreed to stay with me until I move into town. I’m looking for a house now too.

While Kyle and Maryanne are there watching TV the other night Misty pops her head in the room and tells Maryanne that she has 30 days to get out. Then she popped back out. That’s all she said. She still hasn’t explained or spoken about it to anyone.

DJ, having had his mother already beaten him into submission, hasn’t even asked his mother why she’s kicked Maryanne out. What did she do? I’d like to know since my son is moving in with her. What’s up?

Yesterday Maryanne is talking to DJ about moving and planning because they’ve all decided to move out with her instead of waiting another couple of months and he tells her he’s decided he can’t move out because he needs to get his truck fixed so that it will pass emissions, which it apparently will not do now. This is the first Maryanne has heard that she’s on her own. She fell apart.

The next morning before work my son informed me of the situation. Last night he let me now he was going to be moving in with her so she wouldn’t be alone.

Pshit

The plan was for the three of them to move into a house in a few months with Kyle joining them as soon as I move into town. I live in a very large duplex in the woods. Often at night the coyotes scream and freak me out. I’m pretty sure the homeless squatters have moved on from the house behind us. At least, I think they have.

I have to admit that I’ve not lived alone since 1986. I don’t know how I feel about being alone. I have my wonderful dog Bailey (she’s a cattle dog) and our two aging cats to keep me company.

My bipolar is basically in pretty stable right now. In other words I’m doing pretty well. My last child is moving out and I’m looking for a house to move into. Add to that some other family drama and the fact that I’m not going to school this quarter and you have a mix for remission to be reactivated. I have no intention of letting that happen. I’ve fought too hard to get to the point where I am now.

I wrote about something that saved me back at the end of autumn quarter, I think it will continue to be my friend now.

Thank you doctor, for my little chill pill.

Whose crazy now?

Changes and Triggers

By now I know that major changes in my life can trigger an episode. This is true for everyone who suffers from Bipolar Disorder. Last September I went to Florida to see my daughter for ten days. We spent nearly every day at one of the amusement parks. That plus the flights there and back were major stressors for me. Then just a few days after I got back, I started back to school at the University of Washington at Tacoma. That was another even bigger stressor. I admit, I didn’t do great dealing with the overload and eventually had to start on a chill pill so I could get back to where I could function.

Now I’m taking spring quarter off from school (another stressor) and am looking for a small house to buy closer to town (yet another stressor). I’m hoping that my son will move out when I move (stressor) so that I can just get it all over with at one time.

I’ve been reading one the books on my “Books” page called “The Bipolar Survival Guide” and it reminded me that these types of stressors can lead to episodes. I’ve not only got one stressor, but since my dad passed last year in January it’s been nonstop stress.

How am I doing? I’m listening to my dog and playing more and taking her to the park to walk her with my son, his girlfriend and her dog. I’m sleeping enough. I’m eating okay. I’m trying to eat better. I’m taking my meds on schedule. I’m not doing my usual occasional night of skipping my meds for a night just because I can, because that’s a stupid and risky thing to do. I have some wine in the refrigerator that I will be getting rid of. No more alcohol. I have enough stressors and triggers tapping on my “overload’ button without me purposefully adding more.

How am I doing right now? I want some of that Hersey chocolate frozen pie stuff, that’s how I’m doing.

I really wish I had some!

So now begins the time when I have enough time to realize how stressed I am and actually act stressed. I’m not looking forward to having free time. How’s that for weird?