About the only thing Ron does, consistently, that bothers me is when he watches those independent TV shows about the Middle East or something, gets really upset and outraged, and wants to talk about it for hours the next day. I tell him "If it upsets you, don't watch it." When he's done with that I have to hear about how reality isn't reality because everything is made of atoms. All the things we think are real, aren't. Humanity is so stupid. etc. When is God going to hurry up and rapture us? Huh? He's tired. Why won't God hurry up? Repeat ad infinitum. When I get tired I start talking knitting, which makes the point for me. He'll listen, to an extent, but then he gets SICK OF IT JUST LIKE I DO and leaves me alone.
I had no idea I was this peeved. I just hate it when I've endured it all day and I finally relax, thinking he's done, I do something I really enjoy (like a knitting message board) and heeee's back! ACK!
His subjects did remind me of the Twilight Zone. I'm assuming you are familiar with the show. If not, you can Google it. Google will love me for this:
1. state of uncertainty: an ambiguous or unsettled state or condition, especially between two opposing conditions such as life and death or reality and fantasy (http://encarta.msn.com/dictionary_1861722740/twilight_zone.html)
It wasn't until just now, reading that definition, that I realized why I HATE THE SHOW. My whole life with Bipolar 1, psychotic features (hallucinations and delusions) was a freaking twilight zone between "reality" and "delusion".
I never knew where I'd wake up. Was I going to wake up on hyper-manic-outgoing plane of existence, where people sniggered at me and made jokes because of my erratic behavior? Was I going to risk arrest by waking on the plane of existence where "Laws are good, but I'm beyond them." Or the paranoid "They are out to get me and I'm the only one who sees it" - similar to the episode with William Shatner flying on the plane just after he got out of the mental hospital? I remember him shouting and they're restraining him and he can see the gremlin... that's how I felt with my illness, sometimes.
The black planes... ranging from: "I am a leech on society and no one wants me around." to the horrifying "Kill yourself now...get a knife from the kitchen. Do it! Do it now!" Ugh. Like voices are screaming at you and stuffing you into dark and hellish places, and feeling like the only way to get out is by killing yourself.
Just thinking about it is enough to make my clutch for my bottle of Lithium, cradling it protectively. I took it, don't worry.
An employee at work got caught stealing last week. She was arrested. I don't know what led to it but she ended up killing herself. Was she sick or did she just feel like she didn't want the trial and all? Who knows.
I'm glad I know what's wrong with me, and how to treat it. I can handle Ron's "existentiality" - he's a good man who loves me. Hell, he came back from the dead for me. That's a big deal. He'd never knowingly hurt me or the cats, and he works his butt off to give me everything I need.
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