Are You A Pariah in Your Family?
You may not be the one with a problem.
Does mental illness make me a pariah in my own house with my own family? It certainly feels like it. I’m pretty sure others have felt the same.
If I’m in a bad mood, I’m asked if I took my medicine. My loved ones feel perfectly justified in taking my inventory. They have at times checked my med organizer to make certain I took them. I’m not allowed to have an ordinary bad day. I’m not allowed to be angry at anyone. When I tell my family of an argument I have had with someone — they don’t support me. No. Instead they want to know why I engaged in the argument. They think I argued because of my mental illness and they don’t make a secret of it.
Honestly, (forgetting what to expect) I was recently told after describing a lively debate with a friend that “you’re just a bit touchy today.” “Did you get enough sleep last night?”
I’m always wrong because I’m sick
Noooo. I argued because it was an important point I felt shouldn’t be discounted. Others do that all the time. But if I argue or, god forbid, get angry, my point is never important, never worth considering and never supported. I’m always wrong because I’m sick. The general consensus is that I started an argument because I’m a nut. No matter how lofty…
