It's been two weeks now since I've had an AD. And yes I can feel it. I've felt the extremes again. I have felt the same old anger and frustrations, the same sadness and anxiety. All the negative emotions from years ago. But so far, other than an incident this week driving home I had this passing thought to punch my fist through the safety glass (somebody cut me off and nearly made me reck), I think I'm okay. I'm paying close attention to my moods and monitoring my reactions to various things.
This is a really tough week stress-wise even without being off the meds. My kids are away out of state and very distracted, work is a bear, and I've got bills out the yin-yang. I am still going through the trainload of the last boxes pulled from my house, and I am dealing with the loss of the home that I shed blood and tears for to provide my wife and children.
And yet I have noticed that I am not having the same reactions that I would have had in years past. I'm not in the constant state of a seething rage, a pressure cooker building up steam. I don't catch myself muttering angry obscenities to myself or thinking ill will against offensive people, not like before. And I allow myself to find the time to think and to meditate, to pray and commune with God. And to take care of myself once in a while.
And yes, I still feel angry and frustrated, but I think it is no more than anyone would given the circumstances. But I am watching myself closely and asking the Lord to help guide me to an even keel. I am ready to call my physician at any point I feel it has become unbearable.
I think I'm going to make it.
Still, there was a point last night I got pretty depressed, for just a little while. I was talking to my mother again -- she called me while I was in the grocery store -- and told me that W had left her a message that she and my brother were invited to come down to W's sister's home for dinner that night. My mother had to decline since she had a prior engagement at her church, but my mom thanked W when she called her back. My mother started to tell me, as if she was having to break something to me gently, that my W sounded so genuine and sincere, and that again W seemed to be content and at peace with this separation and D.
I know that the offer of hospitality was more likely coming from my SIL (she is a rare, sweet gem of a lady), and I am sure that W is trying to spin things for my family, although I don't know why (W's blown my family off completely in the last year, showed no interest in them, and didn't listen to me when I did offer news about them.)
But then I wonder if it is just me being angry and paranoid. Maybe I am overreacting.
No, in the end I told my mother that I was happy that W made the offer, even though it was counter to her entire attitude towards me and my family since the bomb. And yet that pall hung over me for a long time after I ended the call with my mom. I worried that she was beginning to naively think that maybe my characterization of W's atrocities is unfounded, that maybe I am the one who's delusional. And I also worried that maybe I was having particular difficulties in coming off the AD's.
But I have learned you can't control other people's thoughts. You can merely present you own best case and not worry yourself if they still get the wrong message from other sources. I refuse to let the Devil and his tormentors lure me into self-deception and tear me down. I realize that Satan is always trying to drag each of us down, and that such negative thoughts only feed into his gameplans.
So I am going to enjoy myself tonight. Take it easy. And get to bed early. I've got to go on a business (day) trip to our Wilmington office tomorrow, and I want to get back in time to pick up my S's -- I haven't seen them in a week now. This weekend is the Harvest Fest at our church, and the boys will love that.
