I attempted to look up quotes with regard to self-loathing this morning because I wanted to find one that would apply to this post. Unfortunately, I could not find anything as powerful as the self-loathing and disgust I have with myself today. I despise my behavior and lack of control of it. I hate the fact that the words come out of my mouth like knives. It’s almost surreal. Like I am watching a movie and the female character is identical in body to me, spewing hate and anger, and I can’t stop her. I feel so powerless over this disease right now. I hate it and I hate myself for being diagnosed with it and allowing it to control my behaviors. I can feel the self-loathing and hatred pulling me down back into my black pit of depression as if I have 500lb cinder blocks tied to my feet. How do I stop? How do I just shut up? Why do I go on these rants and allow myself to become consumed with rage over things as trite as picking up after oneself? Putting dishes into a dishwasher should not evoke such anger and rage.
My husband told me he can see the hate in my eyes when I speak the way I speak in a fit of anger, but I do not hate him. It’s completely to the contrary, I love him dearly and I hate myself. I hate what an angry person I am. I hate that I have no idea how to stop the anger from overflowing and taking over my actions and behaviors. I told him today, this family would be better off with me gone. I do not want to carry on the legacy my father left for me, a life of turmoil, yelling and screaming and unpredictable outrages. Such an upbringing left me terrorized and traumatized, and now here I am repeating the vicious cycle. I feel like an enormous hypocrite as I sit in therapy discussing the violence in my childhood, and then carry out some of the same behaviors as he had executed on me. No, I would never kick my puppy down a flight of stairs as my father had done, or slam my fist so hard on the dinner table that the plates would jump, but my words, my words are just as terrifying. I go for the jugular. I want to inflict pain. I reckon I do this because I want someone to hurt as badly as I do. I do not know why. Why do I want to hurt those I love, specifically my husband? The last thing I want is for him to pull away from me because I need him now more than ever.
I have tried to control myself, but the last two days have been awful. I just feel it seething inside of me, the words pressing on my stomach muscles with so much pressure that they force their way to the top of my esophagus and come shooting out of my mouth like when a person has the stomach flu and can’t hold back and vomits violently. It’s as if I am running toward the bathroom to hide away and vomit in private but the nausea overtakes me and the vomit forcefully enters my mouth, leaving me running down the hallway toward the bathroom, but I can’t hold it back. Instead, it assaults the walls of my hallway and hardwood floors with bits and pieces of undigested food and liquid which engulfs the area. Nasty words splatter like uncontrollable vomit all over my life, all over my husband’s heart.
Will this ever end? Will the medication eventually control this viciousness, this unrelenting cycle of anger then self loathing and guilt because I said things I really did not intend to say, and I’ve hurt the person most dear to me? Will I wake up one morning and he will be gone? I pray this will not happen. He tells me he loves me and is going nowhere, but who am I to condemn him to this life of hell and turmoil? Why have I sunken so low this time? I have had bouts with my bipolar in the past and managed it without medication. Has it just been with me so long that the disease has increased its intensity and I can no longer manage alone? I have been on the Lamictal one week and for the first four days it seemed to stabilize me, but not so much after a week. I am on a very low starting dose, so maybe with an increase it will be better. I don’t know. What I do know is, I truly hate myself today and wish I could disappear and save those I love another verbal whiplashing from my nasty word vomit.