This House Is A Circus

Currently, ‘people’ seem to be making me angry.  I’ve never been one for losing my temper, as such, but my fuse is getting shorter all the time.

Yesterday saw a disappointing consultation with my GP, who thought it wise to re-introduce some of the Diazepam I’ve been working so hard to rid myself of.  I have taken to throwing my fist into brick walls so, on balance, he probably has a fair point…especially since my hand is a nice shade of yellow as I type.  But I’m frustrated nonetheless.

The boxing match between the wall and I came about after some well-intended remark from my Dad (discussed in It Doesn’t Take Much) caused me to store up red-hot rage until (ten days later) it erupted from me like magma from a grumbling volcano.  I hit things, threw things, trembled, cried, hyperventilated and inadvertently attracted the attention of everyone else in the house (my Brother brought me a toilet roll as a euphemism for ‘…please wipe the snot from your face…’).

We did eventually sit and talk it out, my Dad admitting he could be more careful with his choice of phrase and me conceding that I’m hyper-sensitive to anything that seemingly invalidates my illness.

And then this evening, my Mum made a sarcastic comment about something I’ve asked my Aunt to help me with.  For the record, my Aunt is retired and is readily available.  My Mum would have needed time off work, which she doesn’t seem willing to do when it comes to me and my appointments (maybe that’s a post for another time).  There was no underhand intent in my asking my Aunt as opposed to my Mum…it just made sense.  Anyway, returning to the comment, the red mist fell again.  I walked away, stood in the centre of my room and looked for something to hit, throw or break.

I somehow managed to get myself to my box of medication, and to swallow the Diazepam I should be using for this purpose…so I made the right choice for once, but the questions remain.  Why am I so angry?  Is it really down to me and my interpretation of every uncomfortable situation?  Or are the people around me exacerbating my illness, when they should be striving to make things a little easier and going along with what I need?

The only conclusion I can reach is attributable to The Arctic Monkeys:

“This house is a circus, berserk as f**k…”


3 thoughts on “This House Is A Circus

  1. Yeesh I would be livid as well in those situations. Sometimes it’s easy to blame the anger on the illness, but if the situations were reversed, I don’t think anyone would like such callousness (or anything else) directed at them.

    Liked by 1 person

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