Bipolar Ugliness

I am just so frustrated with myself right now....

After a fight with my daughter, I was reading the bipolar magazine online.  A story about bipolar in your family tree. You know thinking about in my family, thinking about who may have it, who has been diagnosed, if my daughter will ever be diagnosed.

And I am so irked with myself. I am trying so hard to be a good mom. To make sure my daughter does her homework.

Well see today just not a regular day. Today is one of the few days in the month when I can turn into Roseanne. If you ever watched the show, you will instantly know what I mean.

Today is one of those days that I hate. A day when I realize my disability, and I wish so much I wasn't like this.

I skipped my regular routine today. Halfway home from work, I convinced myself that I didn't feel well enough for kick boxing. I was excited at the fact that Franchessca and I could go home, and have some extra time alone. She would have time to complete her homework, and I could begin on my mounting to do list.

None of that happened. I been to feel  powerless when looking at all the homework my daughter was to complete. Some of it that should have actually already been started since she is not to take the second martial art class.

She has a project due Wednesday. Another project due next Monday. Two pages of math, Sentence Completion, and spelling words three times each.One top of that in her homework folder are unfinished papers, and homework that was to be turned in last Friday. My daughters getting lippy. I am saying I statements, but I am also getting increasingly angry. I threaten her with bed. I threaten her with a phone call with to her father. But I feel all so alone. My negative voice telling me her won't help me anyway.

I go into the kitchen to throw her old papers away. She follows me and  takes the papers out, and out them back into the trash. She takes them back out. It happens again and again, and I slap her.

Of course she isn't injured. I didn't make a mark. But you and I both know full well that words sometimes injure more than a slap. It was just when my hand hit her face. I realized I was out of control.

It has been an hour, and I just don't feel any better. The tears are still fresh on my face, and I feel like no one can help me. I wonder if I should take the three pills my doctor recommended.

He told me I was hypo-manic

"What will happen if I don't, " I asked.
Dr. Maiden responded, "People won't want to be around you. You could become depressed. You could become maniac, and develop risky behaviors"

Ah shucks.... I didn't care. I have never been promiscuous. Never spent money too unwisely ( but never really had any money in the first place), never done drugs, and I don't think I have ever been drunk."

Is this behavior, these thoughts, these tears, are the blows to my daughter's self-esteem, and mine a result of my noncompliance?

I don't know, but tonight I am taking three. I don't want to be like this, and I don't want to feel like this. Days like this I feel cursed for having Bipolar.