In my last post I argued that it is pointless to be angry with mental illness because all it does is make the healthy people in the relationship angrier.
Apparently fate thought it would be fun to prove myself correct.
Good gravy, I'm so freakin' mad. SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SO mad mad mad mad mad.
I can't even intelligently type my thoughts. I have 500,000 angry thoughts running through my head, the accumulation of a lifetime of loving mentally ill people that have abused me and lied to me and lied ABOUT me, betrayed me, belittled me, devalued me and ... dear God, I'm so mad.
I'm sick of the off handed apologies when the mentally ill loved one decides it's easier to just apologize than defend their error. Those aren't apologies, those are statements that get me to shut up because why would I stand my ground then? Any kind hearted individual says to themselves, "well, they apologized. That's something." Except when the apologies keep coming and the restitution never follows. Or the acknowledgement that I'm not a punching bag. Or that I deserve more than an apology.
Or the fact that the mentally ill person's choices have irrevocable consequences on MY life that I will have to suffer for the REST of my life.
Loving people with mental illness is so isolating. And inadvertently they capitalize on that isolation. If you're spending all your day trying to assist mentally ill persons through their mentally ill machinations then you're not spending any time with healthy persons. In the absence of healthy thought processes and behaviors from people that love you correctly, you begin to think the only way to be treated and loved is in the mentally ill fashion.
Then you forget.
You forget that you're being abused, mistreated, devalued, betrayed, lied to and lied about, belittled and harmed irrevocably.
Until it's too late and the damage is done. And no amount of apology or restitution will make up for it. And you're left holding a bag of writhing, poisonous snakes, no healthy relationships to find solace in and a lifetime of consequences for the choices of the mentally ill people that say they love you but in reality have no friggin' clue what love is.
And then you wonder if you're loveable yourself, particularly if you've only surrounded yourself with people that love you in erroneous ways.
Then when you get so mad you want to do something erratic to release the tension and anger and sorrow, the mentally ill person points a finger at you and says, "see, YOU'RE the crazy one, not me"
I've followed patterns of mental illness from one relationship in my life to another and I just can't take it anymore. I'm not sure if I'm more mad at myself, mental illness, the system that doesn't provide genuine help for these diseases, or the mentally ill persons that don't give a flying flip who they hurt just as long as their mentally ill thoughts and behaviors can be justified at all cost, even at the cost of losing their loved ones.
Because mental illness ALWAYS thinks it is the only truth.
I'd be less vague if I thought I wouldn't get hell, fire and brimstone from the mentally ill people in my life: past, present and future, who might or might not be reading my blog now or in the future. Because if there's one battle I DON'T have the energy to fight is the battle that defends the truth on MY behalf, the battle that wages war for ME, the battle that advocates for MY rights.
That's what mental illness does to the healthy loved ones.