Yes, I’ve Been Violent

Who, me, violent? Why, yes, on a few occasions.

My Mental Illness and Violence

Hi, I’m Kitt.

I’m bipolar, and I’ve been violent.

Mildly so, for the most part.

Flipped over a table once.

Been known to slap in response to being called a f*cking b*tch. Don’t do that anymore, but fair warning: don’t call me a f*cking b*tch. My slap is powerful, as I played tennis in my younger years.

Never killed anyone, but when in my mid-20s, I fantasized doing so when dealing with childhood issues in therapy (alcoholism & emotional abuse).

Pretty disturbing intrusive thoughts and impulses post-partum, too. But I didn’t act on those either.

Mostly I try to help people. I try to behave. I apologize when I screw up. I try to do better.

Thoughts Intrude

Originally posted May 3, 2015. Now a year older. Not hypomanic or irritable. Just exhausted, for good reason (too much responsibility on my shoulders weighing me down).

Did a good bit of free-writing at OC Writers write-in yesterday. Plan to salvage some of it, to edit and post here, to edit and submit elsewhere. Primary content of my free-writing was intense.

Kitt O'Malley

Leave Me Alone!

Thoughts intrude
Throw plate in sink
Let it shatter loudly
I see myself doing it
The image, the impulse is there
There – in my mind
No! I respond
Turn left NOW in front of oncoming traffic
No! No! No! Don’t do it
Wait for the green arrow
Yell at, argue with, my son, my husband
Pick a fight with them
No! Do not do it

Must fight the thoughts
Must fight the impulses
They make no sense
I’m irritable
In a mixed state
Somewhat hypomanic
Not suicidal
There is no intent behind them
Just intrusive thoughts
Unwelcome images and impulses
Without reason
Without cause

Except this pain
These insistent hormones
Nasty cramps
Super irritable
Why?
It’s been months
I think
Since last I bled
I’m 51, 52 this August
Give it up already
Stop menstruating
It’s not going to happen
No more babies
From this empty fibrous womb

So, stop it

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Thoughts Intrude

Leave Me Alone!

Thoughts intrude
Throw plate in sink
Let it shatter loudly
I see myself doing it
The image, the impulse is there
There – in my mind
No! I respond
Turn left NOW in front of oncoming traffic
No! No! No! Don’t do it
Wait for the green arrow
Yell at, argue with, my son, my husband
Pick a fight with them
No! Do not do it

Must fight the thoughts
Must fight the impulses
They make no sense
I’m irritable
In a mixed state
Somewhat hypomanic
Not suicidal
There is no intent behind them
Just intrusive thoughts
Unwelcome images and impulses
Without reason
Without cause

Except this pain
These insistent hormones
Nasty cramps
Super irritable
Why?
It’s been months
I think
Since last I bled
I’m 51, 52 this August
Give it up already
Stop menstruating
It’s not going to happen
No more babies
From this empty fibrous womb

So, stop it
Leave me alone
Leave my body alone
Stop with the pain
Stop behaving
Like a fertile woman
I AM OLD
LEAVE ME BE
Let me become
The crone, the hag
I’ve earned it

Leave me be
Let me rest
Enough

I, Too, Am Not Okay

You are not alone. I, too, am not okay.

Yesterday I wrote this response to Tempest Rose’s post It’s Okay for Me to Not be Okay on STIGMAMA.COM:

I, too, am not okay, and I’m okay with it. Often other people do not understand what they cannot see. For many years I wondered, do other people think like this? Do other people have to tell themselves not to drive off that cliff, not to push that stranger in front of the BART train, not to hang up the telephone in mid-conversation – for no reason whatsoever? I used to think, if so, then why aren’t more people driving off cliffs, pushing people in front of subway trains, and rudely hanging up the phone mid-sentence. They are not doing these things, yet I have to tell myself over and over not to do it. For years I struggled with manic symptoms, intrusive thoughts and disturbing impulses, without knowing what they were. Without realizing that I had a treatable mental illness. I knew I was depressed. I mean wanting to kill yourself was clearly a symptom of depression. That I got. The other stuff, not so much.