Why I Connected With “Manchester By The Sea”

Manchester By The Sea was a movie that stayed with me for days. We all have our own ways of coping or not coping with grief and trauma.

I’ve come to realize that I deal with both differently than the majority of most people. Whether it’s because I’m Bipolar or because I have Conversion Disorder, I’m not sure.

I’m tired of apologizing for my emotions. That I do know.

I’m also tired of apologizing for saying “I’m Bipolar” instead of saying “I have Bipolar Disorder”. Bipolar Disorder is about your moods and emotions, to me those are things that kind of influence who you are. It doesn’t necessarily define¬†all of who you are but it does impact some of who you are.¬† If you disagree that’s okay but you don’t have to keep bashing me over the head with your arguments about why I’m wrong. Got it?

I’ve had to deal with a lot of pain, grief, trauma, guilt, and isolation in 44 years. Some of it I don’t remember and some of it is as vivid as a movie playing in my head. Those are the days that hurt the most. Those are the days I wish I felt nothing and I scream into a towel for as long as I can.

I know all about punishing yourself for something you believe you are responsible for. I do it daily. I’ve hurt my family and some other people so much over the years when I was drinking and even when I stopped. I think I could’ve done more for my mom before she died. When I play back that night I think of all the things I should’ve done. Some of them would’ve landed me in jail but it would have been worth it to wipe the smiles off their faces.

I constantly think I annoy everyone around me and walk on eggshells with every interaction. I say “I’m sorry” about 20 times in one phone conversation with my sister because I’m afraid she will stop talking to me.

I’ve started isolating myself more and more each year so I’ll be use to it when the time comes. I rarely leave the house now. It’s better this way. It won’t hurt as much when I’m completely alone. Someone asked if I was being dramatic. I said “You don’t know my family”.

Grieving (The Loss Of Lemmy)

When I found out this morning that Lemmy Kilmister had passed away I cried. My father was in the room with me. He was aggravated that I was emotional about a man I didn’t know who was 70 years old and dead from cancer.

What my father couldn’t and wouldn’t understand was that Lemmy’s music and voice represented a time in my youth where things were good. I laughed, I left the house, I went to concerts, I had friends, and I did a good impression of The Ace of Spades that would make my best friend laugh until she almost wet her pants. It was that time I was grieving and the man.

I was also remembering my vacation to L.A. where we went to The Rainbow. A favorite spot of Lemmy’s. He wasn’t there but his motorcycle helmet was. My friend borrowed it for our ride back to our Hotel. It was the best vacation I’ve ever had. I will probably never have another one.

To be reprimanded for how you feel on a daily basis is tiring. I am constantly told I am too emotional. You try walking around like you don’t have a layer of skin protecting all of your nerve endings. Everything I see and everything I hear effects me. I can’t shut it off.

I know my medications are not working. I know I am not acting rationally. How many times do I have to explain I’m in kidney failure and not absorbing my medications? I’ve been manic for a week now. I want to hit myself in the head with hammer just to sleep. The pain on my right side where my kidney is only working at 20% is immense. I can’t take any pain killers. You try living like this. Sometimes I don’t know what’s real and what isn’t.

I still have not talked to my sister. Actually not many people talk to me at all. I’ve been forgotten. Everyone is making plans for New Year’s Eve. They do not include me. I’m used to this but it still hurts. I’m not allowed to show it.

When will I be allowed to be me?