Time does help, doesn't it?

It wasn't till late Monday that I started to feel a bit more relaxed, but I still haven't had a night's sleep. This is mainly because of guilt, and things going over and over, conversations going through my head. Then my head runs away with itself in imaginary conversations, doing the whole day how I'd have liked it to have been done. Before I know it two hours of these scenes have played across my mind.

Thank you for lovely support. It does make a huge difference.

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Years ago, 1999, I was bullied so much at my last paid job that I took two weeks' off work with depression. I never went back because facing going back just made it worse, and I had had 9 months of it. I knew going back would be harder. So I was signed off sick.

I made an official complaint about the bullying and they investigated it and said that it hadn't happened. I was given a copy of the report and was stunned by the 'witness statements'. Ihad not expected colleagues to stick up for me, but neither had I expected them to INVENT stories, things that hadn't happened, utter lies. I was so shocked. Naive, I suppose.

The only person who had planned to stick up for me had been retired early and so wasn't questioned.

I appealed and lost.

Why am I writing about this? Well, last weekend brought it all back.

What came back in vivid technicolour is the sense of loss of self- in other words I no longer knew if I was ok as a person- I asked myself, "Is this me, in these descriptions? Am I this terrible person? Am I one of those people who just can't see how awful they are?" It's a dizzying experience.

Well I have been back there.

Today less so. Time is smoothing down the edges of guilt's claws, and tempering my ancient, post-Catholic duty of 'self examination'.

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No answer to the email I sent after the events. But they went on holiday Tuesday, so I don't think they had time to read it, and even if they had checked their email before leaving, it was a very long one.

Luvbug and I sent them flowers, delivered Monday. We spent time to carefully word the card so that I was not grovelling and wallowing in saying sorry as I feel strongly that I was provoked. There was right and wrong on both sides I guess. But we said something like, please know I would not have wanted the evening to end that way. Then we wished them a happy new year and a safe and happy holiday (they went to Mexico).

A text came from my brother Monday afternoon saying thank you for the beautiful flowers; we'll straughten things out in the new year. A huge weight went off me then, I think because the ball is left in their court. There is no need for it to hang over us at Christmas.

I can't help but feel relieved though, that they are away for a fortnight and so will be 1000's of miles away at Christmas so I don't have to worry about that other, big, sometimes fraught day!

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My old school friend, Jo, came up on Monday and we toured the shops. Luvbug gave me generous funds for a girlie lunch. She cheered me up no end.

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Monday night and Tuesday I have had to take my level-outer pills as I have felt myself going *UP* too far and too rapidly.

In bi-polar there can be the misperception that when you have an up it is all great and enjoyable! But really it means talking too fast, thinking too fast, doing 10 things at once, can't sit still, and then eventually headaches and eye pain and if you're not careful, hallucinations.

So much as I would like to coast along on the wave (as I do sometimes just because the extra energy means I can so much more done!) I have taken my trifluoperazine like a good girl. Mind you, it is now 1 a.m. and I am not in bed. Oops!

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Up early tomorrow; to mum's by 8 as she has a washing machine delivery. Can they give a better ETA? No, just some time between 6 and 10. (6????????? Does anyone really THINK of washing machines at 6???)

Can't believe Christmas is so close. Hadn't realised that school, and therefore Luvbug's work days, comes to an end this Friday. Stroof!!! Where has the last 1/4 of this year gone???? Strange how the passing of time is sometimes helpful, and other times so fast it is scary.

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Hope you're not all under winter colds and bugs out there. The weather has definitely gone wintry at last.... Bob The Bear has received an amazing sleigh in the post, which he'll blog about later. Now he looks out the window for snow every day :)

Disaster

So I went to the wedding. I'd had about 3 hours sleep but I washed, dressed in my new clothes, fixed my hair and put on the make-up that I'd bought the day before. A big part of me had wanted to go and for it to all be wonderful, meaning that I'd spent a lot on clothes and shoes and new bag, haircut and make-up and even had had my eyebrows threaded- which had been excrutiating! So I had tried to get myself in the right mindset, you see. I HAD 'made an effort'. I stress this because it is the cause of the blazing row that started at the reception-

I went over to talk to my brother. We had all eaten the dinner and were waiting for dessert. A general hubbub and interlude. I went over to talk to my brother but the bride started talking to me right away instead.

Earlier at the church, I hadn't been able to face the service- as I had predicted. I did text my brother the night before and warn him that an hour long service might be too much for me. I wanted to forewarn him in case he turned round in the service, saw I wasn't there and wondered why.

Well according to the bride this text hugely upset my brother as did my not staying for the service. -I did NOT walk out of the service. I left before it began. I did this because it was an old church with old, boxed in pews, so the only exit was down the main aisle. Not good for quick, or subtle exits. SO I explained to mum and Luvbug, and sneaked out. Unfortunately it was just as the bride's party were hanging around at the door. My brother later told me that she had accused me of giving her a filthy look as I left, but I certainly did not!

I really don't think that they would have noticed me not being there if she hadn't seen me leave. THere were so many of their friends there.

But what the bride said to me during reception was that it didn't matter whether I was ill, or couldn't stand church services because of things in my past, or that I felt I was havign a panic attack, or that my depression had been particularly bad that week - all explanations I tried to give her whilst she was ticking me off for not supporting my brother- no, it didn't matter how bad I felt or why, "It's your brother's day, not yours, you see? You understand? It's his day." this is what she kept telling me. And it didn't matter how bad I felt or what reasons I had. Because HER sisters would have overcome it and put him first, she said.

NExt to my clothes. I explained that I had had to wear black trousers in the end- I made a joke of it- as it was hard to find anything this time of year as the shops only sold Chrismassy things. "That's ok, to wear something Christmassy, it's meant to be a celebration, Helen, not a funeral." was the reply. Poor mum, in black and navy. No one took the troubel tell her how nice she looked.

Well after all I'd been through- the fact that I HAD gone to the wedding to do precisely what I was being accused of not doing- to support my brother- something in me snapped. I went back to my table, pick up my things, told Luvbug, I can't stay, not after that, and went to the car....

That would have been enough, but although Luvbug came with me, Mum didn't, so I went back in to explain and to get her... Luvbug begged me not to go back in, but I was so fuming and maybe 2 1/2 glasses of wine hadn't helped (oh dear).

Well mum had gone over to say goodbye to the bride. God alone knows what she said to mum. Mum said she didn't hear half of it.

David was chatting to his friends and working his way to the door where Luvbug and I were waiting. Once he got there, we thought he was going to say something like, "oh dear, that didn't go well did it? Are you going early then?" but no, he started to say that this was HIS day and that I should put him first and I hadn't behaved properly and blah blah blah. SOmething in me was so mad! I told him how low and depressed I'd been, how we'd really tried to get to the wedding, how we had had to come to get mum there- even though she was mostly ignored by them when there!

-Here is how mum was treated-
we seated her in the second pew, behind where the bride and groom, and her beloved grandchildren, were to sit. They moved her back to another pew, further away, and put their witnesses, friends, in that place. SO in the wait for the bride's party it was to these friends that my brother chatted, not mum.

-no buttonhole! I asked if there was a buttonhole for mum, as a few people were wearing a red rose. No, he said. He told mum that as they cost £12 each he didn't get many. So just him, his boys and... the ushers! The ushers got a flower but not the mother of the groom!

-next mum fell went getting out of the box pew. I was in the Ladies' loo at the time, when I came back there was just her and luvbug at the top of the church. They explained what had happened. Had my brother known? Yes, he did. Was he there? No. Luvbug took care of her, though.

-Mum, Luvbug and I waited at the top of the church a bit late while they had official photo's taken. Mum was waiting to be called. But they never called her. All packed up and finished, they let. Mum was so upset. I went after them and asked my brother, what about a photo with mum? -She is upset, she wanted to be in a photo! His reply was something like, "Oh I suppose so, yeah maybe we should, I'll get the photographers...."

We were the only people from this side of the family there, we knew no one else. SO it was particularly difficult. We'd hope my Aunt Pat and 2 cousins would be there, we would all have enjoyed meeting up again. But my brother had invited my aunt and not my cousins, so the invitation was turned down- my cousins felt hurt and besides, my aunt and uncle unable to drive a long way, the cousins were needed to get them there!

Oh well.... back to the door of the hotel- my brother and I got into a shouting match only some of which I remember, but I do remember him shouting in my face that I have always treated him like shit.
WHAT the?? HOW???
Back to how this was HIS day....

There is more, a lot more, but the bottom line is that I felt that the bride had no business pulling me up at that moment anyway, and certainly could not judge me, as she didn't know how hard things were. All she would say to my explanations is that it didn't matter and that I should put my brother first. She went on to say I had not said congratulations to them and blah blah.... not that they had come over to the three of us, leaving us on our own, and not even thinking to include us in the photo's until I chased after them! We had brought cards and gifts.....not congratulations enough....

'Are you glad we're married, because you haven't said so!' she said. This put me as piggy in the middle as I knew that my brother had told me, when Steph had booked the date, that he would rather spend the money on getting a decent car that didn't keep breaking down. As far as we knew, this was her big idea, not his. So hard to congratulate him really, when we felt more sympathy for him...

Well the shouting went on right up to the front door of the hotel and till I got into the car, telling him that my family had treated ME like shit since I was 2 and not any more because they were all dead.

Oops.

Today I woke up and thought it had all been a nightmare.
I wish it had been.
I am shocked how it all escalated from the bride's words to a blazing row.
But telling me that I had to think of others touched a very, very raw nerve.

Next time when facing things I know I can't do, I shall listen to my gut, to my mental health, to my friends out there, and say no, I'm putting myself first this time and I'm not going....

I sent a long email to them this morning giving my side of what happened and how things escalalted etc. Luvbug went over it with me to make sure I wasn't emotive or angry in it.... I doubt it will be read but hey ho. I wish the whole day had not happened in a week when I have been worse than ever. At a better time who knows, I may have been able to pull it off. I feel a total failure that I didn't, a fool, embarrassed as guests must have heard us, I feel bad that mum had to leave early because of it all, I feel wretched about not being able to be normal, and confused as to whether to hate all of me or just my bloody head... suicide was breathly a suitable solution today, but a sleep and a hug from Luvbug, I am now bruised and battered, but ok to go out to the Xmas fair with mum in town..... I feel I have been hit by a truck....

I would love to hear your opinion good or bad, I need other perspectives maybe, I need to know I'm not the biggest shit around- or am I? the worst sister? I am utterly amazed that Luvbug still loves me today.