I’ve been thinking a lot about Mom. Lots to think about there. And there’s something we need to remember: Mom made mania wrong. It was ok to be depressed. Truth is, Mom coddled depression. Wrap yourself up in a big blanket, grab a hot fudge sundae, and go watch an old musical. That was her ‘cure’ for feeling down. But the other side?
I was crazy, I needed to get my head on straight, I had ‘a hard on for the world’. She forced me to sit still during manic periods. I was wrong to feel that way, and according to Herr Mother I was to blame for acting that way. She thought it was some choice I made to bounce off the walls. So every time I get manic for too long I begin to berate myself. Put myself down. Close my mind in. Eventually all that energy turns inward and down: the depression cycle begins because I believe I’m ‘bad’ when I’m manic. This is the real issue: the mania I’ve never admitted to except for this blog. Yes, the depression is real, too, but it’s only half the picture. And it all starts in mania for me. You’ve made the mental commitment to be straightforward and upfront with your new counsellor. This is your reminder to follow through with that commitment.
PS – Mom & Dad mistook the mania for arrogance. That’s why I always got that tight-lipped ‘very good’ comment that meant absolutely nothing to me.