The Annoying Last Word
Maybe it’s just me, but I tend to have an overwhelming need to argue things into the ground. It’s not because I think I’m more right than anyone else; I think it’s more that previous anxiety problems meant that I couldn’t explain myself concisely. When you’re anxious to the point where you cannot explain your points, it makes you even more anxious, and then nothing coming out of your mouth makes sense because you’re so stressed and frustrated and the mouth and the brain quit functioning together. It was my modus operandi for most of my life, and not one that I well recommend.
I find that right now, under the auspices of medication, it’s mainly better. Oh sure, I can and do still get annoyed and frustrated, but it’s not immediately overwhelming. Did I mention that before, the fact that it buried me pretty much instantaneously? It did, and it wasn’t fun. So experiencing that it doesn’t have to be that way gives me hope for some future year where I will likely have to join the ranks of the unmedicated. That does seem to be the case, that everyone I know with bipolar is post-meds for whatever reason. I cannot imagine that day now, and I hope I don’t see it for some time, but it does no harm to take stock of the what ares/can bes that were not the case before.
So then, what’s the gist? That the anxiety is still bad, but the overwhelmingness of it is curtailed enough that I can force a modicum of control over discussion and debate, rendering harder aspects of it more enjoyable and manageable. I’m still not sure I can ‘toughen up’ myself in this regard, but that doesn’t mean I cannot try while I am (temporarily) strengthened. And, whatever the case, I can celebrate my minor victories in the battle for/against my mind. 🙂
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