I’m still running pretty no energy, but my mood continues to hold up pretty well. This is in spite of me needing to vent some steam and share a strong opinion in the last 24 hours over folks dissin’ my homeland-of-origin (Texas, for those who somehow missed that).
Now, I tend to bite back on opinions for a myriad of reasons. For one, every single person in the world is a hypocrite about something, including me. I always go over ways people could call me out for having a double standard, and ofttimes that precludes me putting my two cents out there. Which is sort of silly — it’s not like people can read my brain and pick out ways to point out how I’m legitimately wrong. That also presupposes that most people are willing to put together a well-researched argument, as well as being hyper-aggressive.
I also, like so many of us, used to be a lot brasher and nastier in having opinions when I was younger. Phrases like ‘If you believe X, then you’re *obviously* y’ (stupid, retarded, or some other inappropriate word here) were very normal from my face, and I am sure that made discussing things with me unpleasant. I’ve mellowed as I’ve aged, and I also had a wonderful exposure to a wonderful group of friends who believed in respect in arguments, and that helped me learn how to express my opinions without stomping all over everyone else by default.
I still have one big problem though — I make very definitive statements. I appreciate that many people feel threatened by definitive statements, as if it means that one is unbending in what they believe. This makes me sad — as said, I was lucky enough to be exposed to friends who could debate anything while respecting dissenting opinions. I generally want to discuss things and see other viewpoints to try and make my own more rounded. After all, how does one become rounded and polished if they don’t expose themselves to new materials to bring out their own shine?
Well, and I still have another problem I’m overcoming. Before I was diagnosed with bipolar and medicated, my default state was fight-or-flight. Combine being constantly irrational with ‘Fuck it, I feel terrible anyways’ and a physical need to get opinions out, and it was not a fun environment to be me, or be near me. I know that many people are probably still worried and wary that I’m going to bite their faces off, and to be fair? I can’t blame them. I know how hard I was to deal with — I had to deal with me 24/7!
But for now, I’m grateful at the progress I’m making, and how it’s getting easier to make sense and not set the world on fire the further along I come in my treatment//towards stability. I’m still very concerned about stepping on people, but I feel like I’m doing better. There’s always room for improvement, of course, but it doesn’t hurt to say ‘Hooray’ for what’s working out, right?