Focus on ME!

So, my husband says to me today, "For someone so concerned with people knowing you are bipolar, you sure are telling a lot of people."

Of course I was upset that he pointed this out to me... My fountain of too much information was over-flowing. It was as if he had announced to the world that my hair was thinning so much that my scalp was quite visible, which it is... But this is something that I didn't want nor need addressed.

Now, on to my hours of self reflection, because it is absolutely impossible for me to not obsess over this smack in the face revelation. I often attempt to analyze my wide range of behaviors, with the thoughts that understanding them can help me change them. Honestly though, this diarrhea of the mouth isn't a new development for me. Most people know far more about me then what I want them to; I have that tendency to speak without thought. This is something my dad tried to address as a child. He used to tell me, "Jamie, just stop and think for five seconds before talking." LOL, I never conquered that entirely, I guess except for my most recent issue with a particular inlaw. I paused several times, but it didn't help... I just couldn't stop myself from making it known my absolute detest for her.

And now, here I am, I have completely strayed off the subject that I felt so compelled to address. Why would I make it so public that I am facing a bipolar diagnosis? Hell, I started a public blog that revolves around it! I wonder if I was hoping that someone would care or maybe would be shocked that I, bouncy person of the year, was bipolar. But , I have only been greated with vague, empty responses; making it more and more clear that I may never find myself surrounded by the support that I constantly crave. Nothing will be enough to fill my emptiness... There will never be enough people to make me feel as if I count, as if I'm worthy of life itself. I can only conclude that I have a strange desire to be the center of attention, I crave the pity of having the worst life possible. It's as if the crappy hand I was dealt so young has to carry over to my adult being.

I once commented that I didn't think anyone would ever know the true me, not even myself... I feel this is more true now than ever.