Tag: life

Self-righteousness, you’ve outstayed your welcome.

Published on by cmglife1 Comment

I wouldn’t say I suffer or have suffered from self loathing. Feeling pathetic, lonely, stupid, annoying and unworthy better describes these feelings I’ve had off and on.

One of my other traits is self-righteousness, I think I’ve mentioned this. I decided to look up the actual traits.

According to AI, moral superiority, harsh judgment, inflexibilty and lack of empathy.

While this is very much me, but as is common, I’m not all of these things and definetly do not suffer from lack of empathy, the opposite actually. It caused a lot of emotional pain sometimes.

So what is my problem?! A bit of feeling superior, harsh, and inflexibility feels like me, but not in a way that the person or situation is aware of most of the time. This goes on in my head and sometimes bubbles over to my friends. No judgment to them, but “ranting” and “raving” about whatever I deem unacceptable.

I’m going to work on this with my therapist because I’m not sure I want to feel this way anymore. I mean the distance between empath (which is true) and the three other traits do not make sense to me.

My theory is that because of my childhood and mental health, I developed this view on life because I needed something absolute—a way of thinking I could trust.

Years ago I was told that I was a good person because I made the right moral choices. I didn’t understand why I was complimented. I told the person that if you always pick the right thing it’s not hard.

Seriously? Well, I was really young. Is that a superiority trait?

I don’t think inflexibility describes me. In my own head and what I will allow, etc., it is true. With other people, I think that’s where the empathy kicks in.

So now I have to admit to the last one, and the reason is I am feeling judgmental. For someone who says they don’t judge, this one was a biggie.

It was the judgment I put on my sister after my dad died. It is definitely a complex situation with my sister these days, but that really doesn’t apply to this.

I wrote:

“My dad got very sick again and died. He suffered so much because of the neglect from my sister. No one can convince me otherwise—neglect partly from denying me access.”

Soooooo…..not good. Not the way I want to think. I’m usually not that harsh, even when inside my head.

I believe I hung onto that statement because I have been hurt by her. I was devastated about my dad dying and the way I saw him suffering. I was a wreck. At my job, at home, talking to my friends. I had no control over anything. I didn’t have anyone who was there to talk to. It just festered.

It turns out a lot of this was grief. I finally was strong enough to start a slideshow I had been wanting to do all year. I organized the photos by category: Year, dad, brother, father, grandad, funny….

I started to smile and giggle at some of the photos. All of a sudden without even trying I came back to myself. Even though I’ve been angry with him for so long allowing so many things that hurt me, that wasn’t all him and I loved him. I actually miss him now…grief moving along.

Self-righteousness is not helping me to live anymore, it’s hurting.

Even though my sister does not read my blog, I’m making a retraction and I feel sorry.

I’m going to try to figure out a better right way to live again.

Wait till you hear this….

Published on by cmglife

I had an appointment with my psychiatrist yesterday (down to every 3 months, thank you very much). He’s been my doctor for so long, I’ve watched him turn gray.

I didn’t plan it. It came to me in the waiting room when I was filling out that f***ing depression scale form. Sorry, I must feel passionately about how much I hate that f***ing form to make me swear.

I told my doctor that for the first time in my life I feel things are going my way.

For two years I’ve had a hard time, but not related to my mental health, chemically that is. It’s been my dad being sick twice and then dying, losing my job, the consistent rejection from my sister and daughter and all the feelings and worry they generated.

The things that are going my way seem boring at first glance, but that is the way it is for most of us I think. I don’t require a lot to feel this way. Getting cheap insurance, a bit of money from my dad’s estate, ketamine, friends, business, and cats doing well, etc. It also includes my car running well, exercising, loving my house, affording my house, getting my first physical — where the doctor asked if I have had botox, which I have not.

And while all the bad things were not “luck” or “fate,” neither are the good things. I continued to think deeply about that statement. I realized I work hard, mentally, physically, and financially, to finally be able to say it.

I don’t know what is up ahead, but what a calm feeling to have for now (calm has never been in my “mood” selection).

I feel like hell.

Published on by cmglife

I started this blog because I needed to talk about my life anonymously after being diagnosed with a mental illness that caused me shame and devastation. Well, that is how I saw it back then.

Today, I feel different than I have in a great while.

I have not been able to write honestly about some events in my life in the last few years because to write about things, I would have to think about them.

All I am doing today is crying. Not quite sure why. It may be built-up stress, disappointment, and a bit of loneliness. I just contradicted myself; I do know why I have been crying all day.

So why not take advantage of this crying day I thought?

Here is the the update from the last few years in the quickest and most vaguest way possible:

My dad almost died two years ago. My sister and daughter lied about everything to do with his care. I realized they were gaslighting me, and worse still, I was gaslighting myself (all my life, it turns out).

I lost a promotion to a younger, less experienced person. I needed the position because I knew my position might be eliminated due to school budget cuts. I had to work with her, feeling humiliated, all year.

My new supervisor made my life miserable. She was jealous because I succeeded every time she set me up to fail.

Retracted Statement: My dad got very sick again and died. He suffered so much because of the neglect from my sister. No one can convince me otherwise—neglect partly from denying me access.

Read more here: https://anincidentallife.com/2026/11/07/self-righteousness-youve-outstayed-your-welcome/

Just as I had predicted, I lost my job. I have been looking for work since May. It is not going well.

What is still a constant weight is that my sister and daughter continue to alienate me. I do not know my grandchildren. They preach Jesus, but these are the people who give Christianity a bad name.

I do not want to say anything positive today. Next time.

The Accidental Kindness of Strangers

Published on by cmglife

Yesterday I backed into a car while attempting to get into a parking space.

I got out of my car and we looked at the damage. I had dented and cracked his bike rack. No damage to mine. The man wasn’t very nice and actually said, “You’re not going to skip out on this are you?” He stated this in several different ways several times. The nerve!

Side Note: I did not have a terrible reaction the way I used to when I did something wrong. My eyes only filled with tears and lips quivered. Almost, but not quite, my face began to crumple into “oh god I’m going to cry” phase. Honestly I’m not ashamed of any of that. I think that would be a normal reaction to an unpleasant situation.

While standing there trying to keep my calm, I felt a hand on my shoulder and it was the director of the event I was working. He asked if I was alright. He had such a genuine look of concern, a few more tears leaked out. He asked if I needed to go home he would understand. I said I would be alright and he gave me a hug.

On my way into the event someone else approached me to ask how I was and she gave me a hug.

Half way through the event a volunteer checked in to see if I needed anything and I got another hug.

When the event was over the director came by again and I thanked him . I said I couldn’t believe how kind everyone was and how much it meant to me that I wasn’t standing there in the middle of the street alone.

This maybe a bit dramatic, but it was human nature, as it could be and was that in that moment.

This accident was no accident. The more I think about it, to experience kindness and worth as a human being, well, was worth the deductible.

When can we get in on this PRIDE thing?

Published on by cmglife

Today, on the last day of PRIDE month, it dawned on me….how do I (and other mental illness sufferers) get a PRIDE thing of our own? I want to feel safe to come out too.

I spent an hour writing four paragraphs of how we can’t come out and then I deleted them. What I had written is not necessary because we know the truth of having to live with a mood disorder. The constant spread of misinformation in this society keeps us scared and hidden.

I think our word would have to be different entirely, because I do not feel proud. I don’t know how I could. It would be like feeling proud living with diabetes or heart disease. Both, by the way, have a huge impact on health, but no stigma.

Here is what I came up with:

RESILIENCE Month – boring

BRAVE Month – boring

GRIT Month – I like this one, but it’s got a “mechanic feel” that doesn’t feel right.

COMPASSION Month – Could refer to anything.

I needed help coming up with more words for our very own PRIDE month so, of course, I searched Google hoping that maybe AI could come up with something better.

This one sentence below says more than I could have said in a thousand paragraphs .

hi·a·tus

Published on by cmglife

A pause or gap in a sequence, series, or process.

I don’t want to write about my relationship with my oldest daughter again. Let’s just say that after 8 years it is the same. I see my two grandchildren about a couple of times a year.

It’s taken me three or four of the 5 years to make peace with it. It’s been tenacity, therapy, good friends, my son and ketamine that has enabled me to live with it.

Now my other daughter, the youngest, has caused me more stress and heart ache, because it has gone on for most of her life.

I can actually admit now that I have been emotionally abused by her. She is not a narcissist like my ex husband and my mother. I think she has borderline personality disorder. Since she is my child I hung in there through it all while dragging her to every kind of professional under the sun because she was clearly unhappy (which is what I thought).

Last year she began texting me and wanted to get together. I hadn’t heard from her in a year, not from lack of trying on my part. It was wonderful! It’s like this person was behaving in a way I had never experienced with her. She would come over for dinner about once a month and we watched Sherlock and Vampire movies…not sure how we got on that one, but it was fun and I could finally love her in a real way.

I’m not completely delusional. I was puzzled by this new and improved child. Maybe I was pushing away the probably end to it with screaming, yelling and unfounded accusations from her. I was a bit tentative giving too much of myself emotionally to the situation, but it was so lovely while it lasted.

First she cancelled Christmas with us. I hid how disappointed I really was “walking on eggshells” kind of thing. We had never spent Christmas apart. Fast forward to early May, that was the last time I saw her. I did get a “I’m fine” text in late July when I asked her if I should file a missing persons report. I texted her on and off since then. The usual things. Memes, videos of the cats, silly stories, etc.

Last Sunday I called my son to see if he had heard from her. He said no. A couple of hours later I got a text from him saying “I’m Alive”. So he had texted her, I don’t know the extent of the conversation, but I know he doesn’t have patience for the way she treats us.

Another hour went by and I got a text from her “I’ve blocked you”.

This caused a familiar reaction. I had been blocked by my sister and my oldest daughter during the hardest time of my life when I divorced my husband. The reaction was that horrible pain in my chest followed by uncontrollable sobbing. This time though I got myself together within minutes instead of 30 which it usually takes.

I rummaged around in my head to figure out how I was feeling. This was new. How did I feel? I went to bed. The next morning rummaged some more trying to pinpoint this strange non-reaction.

Before I left for work I wrote on the back of an envelope “this could be a good thing because now I don’t have to worry about her and take all the abuse”.

By the time I got to work I felt so strong and relived about another rejection from another daughter. Finally I could say “NO” to this, That feeling lasted all day.

I saw my therapist that afternoon and she could see the difference in my reaction. She has always given me advice that makes me feel either real with the way I process things or gives me clues as to how I can see it differently. She was really positive and then she slipped in something like “While you are taking this hiatus from her it will be good to….” can’t remember the rest.

I was disappointed that she had said “while”. Just her saying it broke that wall down a little bit knowing that it is just a matter of time that I won’t be able to keep up this persona. It’s not me, I’m her mother.

I’m not thinking about it now though. I figure if she needs anything she can go to her brother, sister or dad. I’m checked out for now. I may just block her. That would feel so good until I unblock her 10 minutes later.

Revised definition: hi·a·tus: A pause or gap of emotional reactions to my estranged daughters.

Crying it out.

Published on by cmglife

I did “Last the day”.

I talked with my dr and he said there is nothing in my medicines or withdrawal off antidepressants that would cause this depression or crying.

“I’m not diminishing your pain,” he said, “but often you have a hard time coping”.

Normally I would have been insulted or felt unheard, but I had already thought of something close to that myself.

Could these tears be grief?

Maybe I just need to cry it all out like I’ve done before.

When I was little I cried for weeks when we moved, when friends moved. Cried for two weeks when I had to put down my dogs, my daughter moved to Wisconsin, my mom died, etc.

Most recently my divorce, the other woman, ostracized by my sister and kept from my grandchildren.

Maybe what I am misinterpreting as depression is actually grief . Maybe this is the way other people handle their emotional pain and I used to because I recognized the event.

So I’m giving it a go. I’ll be crying my eyes out and not questioning it. Sounds like utter hell, I’ll just release the sadness and cry until the tears stop.

I’m all about a plan.

Lasting the Day

Published on by cmglife

Depression is back. I have reasons.

I’m now on depakote. I’m depressed and so weepy. That pathetic crying that I can’t move, tears rolling over my cheeks. I now realize that it is better than a full on noisy shoulders shaking episode. Sometimes they are impossible to hold back.

“Lasting the day” means waiting until tomorrow to call my psychiatrist and ask what to do. He has given me his cell number and I’ve used it.

I’m trying to figure out why I’m waiting. Maybe I have lost hope that another 18 hours will make any difference and it probably won’t. I’m losing hope for any of this.

Be back tomorrow.

My New Mantra – Life Sucks

Published on by cmglife

My therapist has been trying to break me of the way I view life when I’m happy or depressed. When I’m happy because things are going well and I’m accomplishing my emotional goals, I tend to think nothing ever bad will happen that I can’t handle. And then, of course, as soon as depression comes on or something terrible happens, I rate it as the worst I’ve ever felt and the emotions will never lift and I will never have control over my life.

I’ve got some pretty bad situations going on right now. For a year actually. I can’t believe I’ve made it as far as I have without cracking. I almost cracked a year ago over the summer. Rock bottom, thank god I’ve reached it and hopefully never have to take back that statement. I ended up in the hospital because of a practice suicide. I’ll have to explain that another time too, because this post is about reality.

I thought one day, a revelation of sorts, who ever said your life was supposed to be happy? It was actually a relief after I thought about it for a few days. I was always feeling like I wasn’t doing things right or failing getting my life in order.

Life sucks and then it gets better. I repeated it so many times and it blew my mind. The disappointment is gone when something bad happens and the joy of living in the moment when things are good is contentment. Imagine me, being content? If it’s only for an hour or so, I’ll take it! It is a brand new emotion for me. It’s rare for anyone I thing unless you are baby or a sleeping golden retriever.

So when I realized life sucks, etc, I created the “spiral”. I framed it and it hangs on my my wall so I can see it. The heart is there because one day I hope to love myself.

Another One of Those First World Problems

Published on by cmglife

I feel complaining about insignificant things and labeling them “FWP” exonerates me from being a whiny spoiled person living in the best place in the world.  I’m also a jaded ex-catholic, so there is already a layer of guilt underneath everything I say and do.  

I want to post this for another reason.  With the hell I’ve been going through for the past year from medication side effects, divorce, being ostracized by my children and doing all of this in a delicate mental condition, I welcome superficial trivial problems. 

Here is one now:

Well, so far this is a very good day! I colored my hair this week from an online hair color boasting it is just like the professional color. I don’t know why I bother. The brown of my hair turned out beautifully but the white came out a light brownish reddish. Anyway……I used the last of my root concealer two days ago (forgot all about covering my roots on Tuesday and was out doing errands for four hours). Luckily I wasn’t aware so had all of the confidence of a good looking person. Back to my roots (pardon the pun) I was even debating wearing one of Allison’s hats to hit the Walgreens early before too many people were there to get a new can of concealer. In the bathroom I took one more last ditch effort, fingers crossed, to look in the bathroom closet.  There it was buried under cold medicine…..half a can!!!  Halejuha!

Dear Life:  please keep bringing on those kind of problems.  I really need a break.  xoxo