January 6, 2009
Even this Blog is Bipolar!
Random Quote of the Day: "I'm sorry if he's ugly and fat, but he should still be a nice person." -My Dad who then proceeds to laugh at himself hysterically.
I was going to blog about the wonderful holiday season, including the five day New Years Eve bender, but now I'm all caught up in drama and I can't think. I'm almost 24, so it's not that I feel abandoned by my mom moving across the country. I feel sick because she's bipolar and not taking medication and she's going to live with a psychotic brain washing control freak. I'm afraid that she will realize it was all a mistake and won't have a way to escape. Also she doesn't answer my calls anymore and doesn't say "I love you" when she hangs up. Not a huge deal normally, but I used to talk to my mom almost every day. Now she doesn't know what's going on in my life. At least she remembered that I needed pots and pans, so when the movers came 3 weeks early today, she left those in the abandoned house for me to get... somehow... in the car that I don't have. It's a good thing my sister is home, so I could call her and tell her to put mom on the phone so I could find out that she didn't go to work today because she's moving early. So I guess if I didn't happen to stalk her, I wouldn't have found out and I would have gone home on the 15th to see her before she left. I hate secrets more than I hate lying.
Mostly I'm afraid to be like my mom. When I feel restless or moody, I get extreme anxiety. This is not because I live in a city or because my job is stressful or because I'm just a 20 something head case. It's because I'm deathly afraid that being bipolar or schizophrenic is genetic. Is it? It runs in my family. My great grandfather, my uncle, my mom... what if I'm not just moody. What if I need lithium?
My dad says she's always been like that and that he can't imagine moving away from us. He said he would love to move to Montana, but it's not in the cards because he has a family. He then gave me parental advice for maybe the fourth time in my life. The first time was right before my 7th birthday and he told me to be grateful for any gift I got, even if it was a used tissue. I know my mom cares about us on some level, but she's also not sympathetic to anyone else's feelings. She thinks that how anyone feels is only because of how they interpret a situation and she refuses to take responsilbility for another person. This also applies to being sick. She doesn't believe in Western medicine and she thinks that even cancer is caused by some mental or emotional state. Probably half true, but we're not any closer to solving this problem. It might not seem like a problem to anyone else, but it's literally tearing the rest of my family apart. My sisters and I are trying to be "strong" about it, but my grandparents are a wreck and my aunt calls me all the time now. Splendid times.
Meanwhile, I am actually happy with my life here. I had a really great "Chicken Fried" Christmas and a crazy long fun weekend. My New Year's resolutions are to stop worrying so much about things I can't control (I will probably never blog about this situation again), to be grateful for the good things and focus on them, and to study for the GMATs and apply for NYU in the Spring. Good luck to me. I'm also going to Pittsburgh on the 23rd and Vegas on March 11th. Today I am so so so grateful that I live in this place on my own and that I don't need anyone to give me money. I'm so happy that my mom didn't decide to move before we were all 18. Welp, I just destroyed dinner as usual. I can't cook, but I'm grateful I have food at all.
at 3:32 PM