This is a very timely post, having just spent Easter with my children and their cousins. I’ve lamented the plight of the bipolar mother in the past, and it was reenacted this weekend.
I am touchy. I don’t take criticism well. And I’m paranoid.
The thing about paranoia is that you don’t know whether it’s rational or not. To me, it makes perfect sense, and I have a hard time seeing that it might not be true.
Even if it was, I have to get to a place where I am not so upset by all of it. I think I spoke in the past of a therapist who encouraged me to be flip: I’m bipolar! I found that to not work very well when the people who had criticism of me based it on my insanity.
When I’ve been criticized, I withdrew that portion of my life. Now, my life is pretty sheltered. I don’t give people much of a chance.
Now, I could go down the road of how self-absorbed this all is. I’m not going to deny it, but my life right now is the result of personal necessity.
I don’t know how to improve my relationships, but some things I’m doing are: going to AA meetings. Calling people in the program, meeting up for coffee.
That’s not enough I suppose, but that’s what I do today. I can think of other things, but I think working, going to meetings, living with my family, and be open to being right as well as being open to perhaps being wrong.