I concur. My idea is to take a proactive stance-- I did so to the best of my ability when I received medical treatment. It would seem ironic to try to blame my problems solely on my condition, since, after all, med therapy seems to be working. I also had the idea burned into my head by my mother that I was not permitted to do any such thing-- in fact, for years, she assumed that my reactions to brain chemical imbalances was solely my fault. On the other hand, it was a relief to know that I hadn't acted up willfully, or in other words, being mentally ill was making it difficult. I wanted to be well again, really. Knowing that bipolar disorder acerbates these kinds of problems doesn't seem to me to be a basis of endless excuses; I like to think that I'm not alone. Fortunately, alcohol abuse for me is not an addiction yet, but still a point of escapism. I suppose I'm still very angry with my mother. Many problems stem directly or indirectly from my resentment towards the perfectionistic and overprotective way she has raised me. The challenge I am facing now is that I realize I can't be as close to her as I'd like to be, because she hurts me whenever I get too close. I am trying to snip the last of the apron strings, so to speak. I dare not ask for money when finances are tight because I know she ties emotional strings to it. I constantly have to sidestep talking about my weight with her (or her parents) when she brings it up; she hounds me so much yet doesn't understand why I get so testy about it. I think she doesn't realize the pounds would come off if she'd just shut up. When I came out to my mother, she didn't seem to understand the simple affirmation I was making (lifestyle decisions are another matter). First she thought I was destroying my religious progress, and then when I assured her accepting my bisexuality didn't need to affect my choices of lifestyle, she said I was worrying too much. Of course, my parents flipped a number of gaskets when my sister came out-- she had a very abusive girlfriend and wandered into a haze of alcohol use and drug and cigarette addiction. This girlfriend, by the way, took Rachel to live in Seattle, then came to live with us, then was frittered away by her Muslim parents to live with her sister in North Carolina, and then Rachel moved over there, and then came back-- it ended in a total mess. Rachel had to go through anger management classes and stuff since she got fed up with her manipulation. She also filed a restraining order. So she's experienced similar, if not more intense, moments. The very ironic thing about my mother is that the advice she dishes out the most is the very advice she sometimes seeks from me. I knew she'd be advising me on my marriage since she was bound and determined to breed me a middle-class gentleman, and my wife resents it, but I never thought that she'd be asking me for advice on her marriage when I was still living at home. I was flabbergasted. I have been tempted many times to say that it is NONE of my business. But I also have trouble refusing a request of someone in need, even if it is my own mother. I have felt very awkward and confused trying to give a third party opinion-- trying to understand her perspective, and then try to explain my father's. It has been distressing enough to be told by her (or my father) that their marriage has had strains and stresses, much less that my mother sometimes asks my opinion. The extended family seems to be undergoing a trend: where earlier generations tried so hard to live close by, my siblings and cousins are moving away-- sometimes very far away. The first of my youngest sisters now lives outside San Jose, one cousin lives in England (although her English husband is looking to move to WA to work for Microsoft-- thus closer to the family living mostly in WA), three cousins live on the East Coast-- two moved there very recently, and now Julie and I plan to move to MI. I suspect our generation is tiring of the grip of the upper one. I am fighting to get out of the old habits my family taught me-- I have physically fought every one of them since they taught me more or less to do so. Rachel and I drew blood on a number of occasions when one kindled the anger of another. For all their love and support, I still have trouble shaking the very dark lining that overshadows it.
- Backtalk version 1.3.30 - Copyright 1996-2006, Jan Wolter and Steve Weiss