Swelltide.

Likely this will be a long and rambling post, for which I apologize in advance for those who continue to read.

I am still off my medication. I still have not found a new psychiatrist. I still have not put in the effort to meet with a new doctor, to discuss cheaper medication. I am still off of my meds. This seems to be the best way to start, to frame how I've been feeling or thinking lately. Maybe manic. Maybe depressed.

My sister arrived for a few days to visit with my parents-- and to announce her pregnancy. My mother seemed usually ecstatic (concerning any news that involves my sister). The guilt I have now... My immediate reaction aside from envy, was the thought that I cannot remember the kind of reaction from my parents when my brother announced that him and his girlfriend were pregnant-- five years ago. My mother standing beside my sister, glowing. Her dear daughter, pregnant... I was baffled, happy for my sister, and equally furious.

There exists no concern about my well-being, or my brother's. There has not been any discussion about my mental state beyond that initial conversation that I had with mom about being diagnosed with bipolar, beyond  a few passing remarks about how I 'seem' so much more 'stable' now. How difficult it is not to take such remarks as a kind of insult. She does not know, of course, that I haven't been taking my medication.

My mother, who was sexually abused as a girl, never seeking professional help. Knowing her, she thinks that this is a kind of testament to inner strength. Getting through life with all this baggage, on her own... I think it is kind of pathetic. She looks down on me, I think for having gone to counseling. She looks down on me for actually trying to deal with the issues and hang-ups that I have.

She made a remark, while we went out for lunch a few days ago, about a cousin of mine who once went on a national TV show for being promiscious. "A girl sexually active at such a young age, it is a sign of sexual abuse." I asked her who in the family... "I don't want to get into it." Why? What a white-trashy, southern thing to do. We must keep quiet about those things. We must never talk about those things.

Whatever. I am not like my parents. At all. I want to think about everything. I don't think there are things within a family you should not talk about. And, that is the ironic thing. My mom is fine discussing other people's problems. Never her own.

My brother shows up to the house today, probably stoned. It was a lunch organized for his birthday. My mom had some things to say about it. My sister had some things to say about it. His 'drug' use seems to confuse them.

One of these days, I will remind my mother that while she was ever vigilant in my sister's affairs, growing up she could care less about what my brother and I did, so long as it didn't involve court or the police. I will remind her that my brother's real father never has expressed interest in him. Never sends so much as a birthday card. My brother, who has been described as 'willful' wasn't interested in school until you suddenly decided, when he was seventeen that it was unacceptable that he didn't care if he graduated from high school. Never mind that you could care less the other sixteen years.

God! The anger. The resentment. The pity that I feel for my parents. Living here, so close to them is a mistake. Something that I need to think about....

Swelltide.

Three tests coming up this week. Haven't been studying like I should. Seems like an easy thing, right? Just sit down and start... Well, I have gotten most of my homework out of the way. All that is left is to study.

I have felt immeasurably isolated lately. My parents have stopped by a few times to say hello. My girlfriend is home again. But, when she's here she is asleep mostly. Or, I am working on homework. Trying to study. I don't really talk to anyone at school. It is just like being at work-- making small talk but not really clicking with anyone, and most of the people I talk to, I don't really care for (or care about).

I told my brother, only the second person in my family yet, that I am bipolar. His response was, "Oh, for real?" Then went on to talk about a video game he had been playing. My mother is not the only person in my family who is emotionally unavailable. Everyone in my family keeps this emotional distance from everyone else. I hate it. My brother. My sister. My dad and I get along really well but it is a very rare thing to talk about personal matters in a meaningful way.

So, I have done as my girlfriend wanted me to, and broke it to mom, who has undoubtedly talked to dad about it, and I've told my brother-- and here I am still, without any kind of emotional support whatsoever. It isn't surprising to me at all. Frustrating, infuriating, disappointing. Not surprising. I just want someone to give a shit.

I have a hard time, sometimes, with this kind of thing. I have felt so detached from everyone for so long, that I tell myself, maybe people aren't really being distant, maybe it is you. With people in general, this is true. Not with family. When you tell a sibling something like that, they should be concerned, right? When you summon the courage to actually admit something like I have to your parents, the response should be more than 'Oh.' I know that mom has said something to dad about it, but he hasn't said a word to me. My whole family is emotionally unavailable-- distant.

I try hard not to be cold-- not to be like them.

The girlfriend and I have a conversation coming very soon with mom and dad. We're basically going to tell them that we can't afford to rent from them anymore, and that they need to help us out or we fond somewhere else to live. Hah. This was what we discussed in the therapy session a couple of weeks ago. I don't think that mom, or dad, really understand how difficult they make things, how much unnecessary stress that they cause sometimes without even meaning to. I am not optimistic that this conversation is going to go well. If we end up moving out, having to find another place-- if this ends up damaging the relationship that I have with my parents, at least I am not really losing much. Also something that we talked about in therapy.

My girlfriend has been taking Xanex and Prozac, with much improvement. She hasn't had any panic attacks, but she has been sleeping a lot. She's lost a lot of weight. I am more than a little worried-- and now I regret getting her involved with my family. I wasn't a good idea. I know that my being bipolar, and us living out in the middle of nowhere hasn't helped her at all, but I also know that living and dealing with my parents hasn't helped her either. Neither of the two of us have been happy for a long time. I feel extremely guilty sometimes. It is such a strange thing, too-- we love each other so much, but everything around us just seems collapse inward on us. We can't catch a break.

My insurance has finally lapsed. My medication, now out of pocket, will be about a hundred dollars a month. Just another thing that I can't really afford, but can't afford to go without. I would make an appointment with my psychiatrist to talk about more inexpensive options, but she charges a hundred dollars (for fifteen minutes), that I can't really afford. Going to do some looking around on the web and see what kind of deals I can find. Make an appointment with my doctor and talk to him maybe instead.

Well. I guess I should get back to my studies.