Am I allowed to be mad or angry? I mean, truly, honestly angry, mad?
I never feel like I am. I feel like if I get mad I'm doing something wrong. I'm not supposed to get mad. I'm supposed to be happy, smiling, loving, caring, take-care-of-everyone ... blah, blah, blah. To be honest, it pisses me off right now just to write it.
I was never allowed to get mad when I was a kid. I was allowed to be happy and smile and laugh (as long as it wasn't too loud and it didn't disturb my parental units when they were watching TV, "entertaining" their friends or sleeping); I was allowed to be sad and cry (again, don't do it too loudly!); but if I EVER got mad or angry about anything -- oooohhh, buddy!
Don't stomp your feet, slam the door, raise your voice or anything that showed you were upset or that would make one of THEM mad. And then you were in trouble. Whoever it was would come to where you were, yell at you, ask you "What the hell is your problem?" You may get grabbed by the arm or pushed from behind and by this time, you've forgotten why you were mad and slammed the door or were stomping your feet in the first place.
So, it was better to just not get mad.
But what about later? When I grew up?
Nope! Don't get mad then either!
If you got mad about your husband not coming home until 3 or 4 in the morning, about him smelling like perfume, having make-up on his shirt or finding a girl's phone number in his pants pocket when you were doing the laundry, you better not say anything or show that you were mad! Just keep it to yourself. If you got mad and tried to show or tell him you were mad, he would sit quiet for a moment or two and just stare at you. Then he would start asking questions, like "Where'd you find that number? In my pants? So you've been going through my things?" Or maybe he'd say, "You think I should be home with you instead of going out for a beer after I work hard all day? I bust my ass and then I should just come home and be with you?"
This is about the time that you begin to wonder why you were angry in the first place, think that maybe whatever it was that made you mad wasn't such a big deal after all and wish you hadn't said anything. Within a few minutes, as you hold the ice pack on your face, your hand, or whatever appendage your trying to pop back into place, you can't even remember what you were mad about at all, but you do remember that you won't be telling him the next time you're mad about something.
I wonder if maybe not being allowed to be mad all those years is perhaps part of the reason why I am so passionate with all of my emotions now. When I feel something -- whether its anger, sorrow, pity, fear, happiness, or otherwise -- I feel it with every inch of my body, with every ounce of energy I have, and with ever pore of my being.
Am I overcompensating in some way? I know that there are times when actually feeling things gets me in trouble now, too.
Maybe I should go back to putting my emotions in some type of check ... but how?
Why am I not allowed to be ...
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I know this is not your bp blog but it's uncanny how the women I know with bipolar, the ones I like, have all had a similar background. That something in their development and/or upbringing (especially) told them that their emotions and feelings were too much, too big, too overwhelming, and definitely too much trouble.
ReplyDeleteAnd we are people with big emotions by definition.
My parents gave me a wonderful life in many ways, but they definitely disapproved of my emotions. My dad always told me to get ahold of myself, that what was happening was no big deal and no one would like me if I was moody. My mom said no one would be friends with an angry girl and that it wasn't nice to be angry -- and I internalized the idea that feeling angry and expressing anger was the same as being angry.
As a result of this I became extremely accommodating and docile and was taken advantage of a lot. I wonder if being forced to repress our emotions makes us more vulnerable to the genetic and chemical aspects of bipolar disorder.
Anyway, this was a very moving article. Thanks for posting it.
Amy