I have talked about dealing with mental illness. I have talked about my probably bipolar disorder. I have even talked about how it sucks, the ups, the downs. I have covered how the downs affect my life and ability to function. What I've never covered is how the ups can be a bitch, too.
Now is as good a time as any. I have been manic lately. Not productively manic, but behaviorly manic. I have boundary issues, issues recognizing appropriateness in situations sometimes, issues with impulse control. Well, open mouth, insert foot.
I did something incredibly stupid. I can own that. No excuses other than that I really...just...didn't think. Just did. I sent out a joke at work. That I shouldn't have. And to top it off, it seems that I have repeatedly made coworkers uncomfortable in the past month or so. Not that anyone brought that to my attention. Oh, no. Because that would have made sense. So I could change my behavior. Nope, they just held onto it. So that when I fucked up big, which I did, they had fuel for the fire.
I got hauled into HR yesterday and basically told they had every right to fire me...which they do. I fucked up. I'll say it again. I. Fucked. Up. I can say it. But it doesn't make me feel any better. I left early before they could complete their corporate, involved process of firing me. Which means Sunday I will get to drive in to be told to drive right back home.
I am a wreck. I cried for hours yesterday. Hours. I have never been fired. And really, now? Basically, this kills the house. Most likely. I mean, the mortgage stuff is nearly handled, but if they find out I no longer have the job that got me the mortgage...yeah. I don't even know.
I have failed my family. My son. My husband. And the worst part is, I can't really fix it.
It's got me thinking that I should maybe be treated for bipolar after all. (Well, when I have health insurance again). But at what cost? Where do I go in that? Does the me I know disappear? Or do I just become a stabler version of me? I have seen people change so much on meds. Maybe not for the better. I don't know. But it seems obvious to me that something has to change. And right now...I just don't know what to do.
Remember this post about wanting to just RUN? I am so there. Again. I am out of control, and I recognize that. That means little to a corporate employer. And I didn't even know how to voice that. But again, it matters little to them. The last time I was this out of control was 2 years ago, right around now, when we had found out about Hubby's XXY diagnosis, and then my blocked tubes. I was crazy. I took leave, alternating between days of crying endlessly and days of erratic behavior. (4 piercings and a tattoo in one week anyone?). My body has acquired a lot of new ink lately (free, thank you very much). My stomach is so fucked up I cannot eat (official IBS diagnosis last week), and I have lost 5 lbs in the last week alone. Okay, that part I'm not complaining so much about.
Our friends have leapt to the challenge...sending me virtual hugs from FB and Twitter. Move to Texas! Move back to WI! Time to wipe the slate clean! Find something you love to do! Once upon a time that was the easy thing to do. We did it 3 years ago. And if I step back and take a look at the big picture, it brought us P. For which I am so grateful that words can not express how much. How do we leave family? Friends? Community?
You know what sucks, guys? I am GREAT at my job. I hate it. I hate the company. I hate the bullshit. But I am good at my job. No complaints there. But I blew the personal interaction bit. Blew it because I am out of control and have lost sight of how to behave.
What do we do? How do I fix this? How do I go in there Sunday and face people who have apparently been complaining about me and I had no idea and be normal? Please, someone, make a decision for me, because obviously I am incapable.