I was angry last night, in case you didn’t get the drift from my last post. Angry and incredulous and incredibly sad that I have no power to change someone else’s situation.
It’s taken four years of therapy to recognize that I am truly not responsible for anyone else’s actions and all that work nearly went away in the blink of an eye last night. In fact, it did disappear briefly.
I love everyone who has ever come into my life. Everyone. My feelings and the intensity of my feelings never leave me. I have a friend who has a theory that this aspect of my personality is part of my illness too. If it is, I wouldn’t be without it.
But my personality comes with great cost and because of the intensity of my feelings, I have to work hard to keep reality in perspective. I suppose that’s one of the key definitions of bipolar disorder,
I value authenticity and transparency above all else, aside from love. I believe in personal responsibility and admitting when there are mistakes that have been made. I believe in making amends.
The problem I have is that I try to make amends for other folks’ mistakes. I am a fixer. And I need to focus on fixing myself, not other people. I need to especially not try to help people who aren’t ready to be helped.
It all comes back to resolution #3: “Continue making peace with the past. Acknowledge I’ve done all I can to repair broken relationships. Let it be.”
The problem is, I don’t want to let it be. My inner dysfunction screams, “Fix it! Fix it now!”
