Bitterness

I’m bitter and have no empathy right now.  I’ll admit it.  This happens when I’m not doing well.  I read or hear other stories about other people’s struggles and if anyone is remotely positive about their situation I’m calling them liars in my head.  Especially if its something about how their situation makes them more empathetic.  It makes me angry.  I want to be a good person because I’m  good person, not because of some stupid illness that makes my life miserable. God forbid they say everything happens for a reason. There is no reason for this.  If there is, that means I’m meant to be sick. Absurd.

Now this part I’m really not proud of, and please don’t throw things at me, but it is what it is. I put suffering on a scale. Which is one of the things that normally make me really, really mad. When I see or hear something about people’s struggles with depression or anxiety (just one or both),  I get annoyed.  For some reason I get this idea that its so much simpler for those people. I know its not, but sometimes that doesn’t make a difference.  When I see people relating to each other about it, I’m bitter.  When I see people talking about friends who stuck with them, I’m bitter. Maintaining friendships is really, really hard for me if they know I have Bipolar.

Everything upsets me, I’m jealous of people that don’t have to deal with this.  I’m upset that I have to go back to therapy every week.  Everything is stressful.

I get tired of dealing with this.  I don’t ask for help or support because I don’t want to worry my parents, and I don’t know when is too much.

I don’t want to be a bitter person, but I’m so mad at my situation.

 

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