All a joke

Well apparently, if you ask my mother, the relationship between stress and BD is a joke. Oh, and I also used BD as an excuse to flip out whenever I feel like it. Gee, thanks mom.

My truck has broken down in the parkinglot at work. Sister picks me up to get a can of gas, but that's not the problem, it's the lift pump. I call mom to find out if I am on the AAA before I call them. She doesn't know, says to call stepdad. I call step-dad, he doesn't know. I call mom back and she starts acting like she is an auto-tech expert (even though I'm the jackass that spent a year in auto-repair courses). She asks if I can just get a battery. I explain I am very freaking stressed, and am not the kind of idiot to tow my truck someplace if it needs a battery. For the love of god, I replaced the water pump behind my old work location on my previous truck when it went out, and days later replaced the radiator in my driveway. Yet in going to tow the truck for a battery R&R???? Fucking come on. Seriously.

At any rate the conversation continues to be retarded regarding the AAA coverage so I tell her that I'm going to hang up and call for a tow and just pay for it out of pocket because it's not worth the hassel of fucking with this. And this is true, I'd rather pay $$$ than continue to stress myself to the point where I'm going crazy-as-bat-shit in my fucking head. Mom then yells and curses at me saying I just need to hold the fuck imams something else, I shout back that her yelling at me is causing me more freakout and I'd rather pay $$ than be stresssed and I said she'd have a better understanding of this shit and how it affects me if she ever read my paper***, and then she said the thing about me using the BD as an excuse to act like an ass, and then I handed the phone to my sister and said I don't want to hang up on her but I also cannot talk to her anymore.

***referring to my research review regarding the psychoneuroendocrinology between BD patients and emotional stress.

So I pretty much cried for 30 minutes and am having a hard time trying anymore. With anything. What does it matter?? Seriously? I have put up with my own mother not being "proud of me" or encouraging or even recognizing the idea that maybe just maybe the idea of going to school fulltime and working fulltime and doing research lab work and acting like it's all whatever and no big deal. I've even put up with her joking to her friends that I'm 25 and still living at home. There was also J, the jackass I loved that couldn't be with me because he's isn't "strong enough" to handle the BD thing and can't give me what I want.

Okay. Fine. But for crying freaking out loud, when my mother doesn't even give any validity to what I'm experiencing, the struggles I work through, the sheet will power to get up some mornings, to go to school, to sit for hours on end while manic forcing myself to read neuroscience texts and learn crap so I can get a freaking Ph.D, any of it, all of it, the stuff I do outside of home is so much that when I actually get home I go straight into my sweats, sit down to study, and then go to sleep with maybe some reruns of House (episodes ive seen each *at least* 5 times because im obsessive and this is the only thing I watch on TV) on the DVR. No shower, no brushing my teeth, all of that is too much and I'm tapped out. So I sleep. Then do it again the next day. And I don't outwardly complain, never, ever, ever do I mention the BD shit except on this damn blog and she doesn't even both to read this because she doesn't have the time, hell she hasn't even had the time to read my research paper, part of which was a writing sample for my Vanderbilt application, so I shouldn't be surprised...

I can get by with out any close day-to-day friends, I am fine being alone, I'm fine not trusting anyone and I am fine with all of this, but I'm not fine with my mother not believing in me. That I am not fine with. Not at all.

I doubt myself half the time, and then I get a reminder that the crazy isn't all in my head when a doctor I emailed about dizzy issues I have asked if I was manic when I wrote her my three emails. Then I remember something is real and yet I feel like crap still and keep questioning myself and pushing myself...

At the end of the day, everybody I guess needs to have somebody. I don't have one of those. I am too stubborn and hell bent on not ever needing someone and being fully autonomous that I can't allow the idea that I too may need someone. Moments like now, crying, sad, scared, hopeless, burnt out and beat down, I almost wish there was someone the I could talk to, that would understand and support me, someone for me to lay my pathetic ass head down on their shoulder and cry and be held and feel safe. I wish there was someone. I've never felt this alone, as though my heart is breaking inside accompanied by physical chest pain, and I can't stop crying, silent tears, internal pain and sadness... Nothing has a point to it. Nothing. I don't want to go home. I don't care about school. Why fucking bother?!?! It's not like school is going to fix me; school won't save my mind or make things easier. So why? Why?? Nobody in my life gets me, nobody sure as fuck gets me, nobody understands and my family thinks BD is a joke, my friends (you know, those people I never see anymore because they are dicks) sure dint give a flying fuck, and it's all so pathetic and stupid. Look at me, what the fuck am I?! I'm a big fucking nothing. I'm an idiot. An incompetant moron that can't function normally. So what does ANY of it fucking matter?? It doesn't.




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