It's going to go mauling

Ugh.  I figured out, I was in a really bad mood.  Then I thought, in a very self-pitying fashion, "Everyone's entitled to a bad day".  I realized about then; this is illness talking.  Did I take all my meds?

I know I did the morning stuff, and noon - oops.

BAD WORD.

So, I got that (I can take a missed dose with the next one, per doc - ask your doc if you have questions) just now.

It's like my illness is like the vicious pit bull down the road.  It's fine - if it is confined and restricted by medication.  God forbid you let it out, it's going to go mauling.

Fortunately, I only barked a little, and that with a person I'll probably never see again.  But, had my levels been right, I doubt I would have cared.

Why am I leaving the post up?  To show my thoughts; when my meds aren't right.  Ugly.  It has a pretty good basis, but the intensity and persistence are all wrong.

I believe that's what happened with my maternal grandmother.  When she felt she was wronged, she never forgave.  She brooded about injustice for long periods of time, decades, even.

Example, she was very poor.  Her mother couldn't afford to feed all the children, and arranged for an aunt to come and adopt Hopie, my grandmother.

When the aunt came out, she fell in love with the little sister, and adopted her instead.  Hopie never forgave her for that, especially as she ended up in an orphanage.

Sigh.  And she died all alone, having run us all off.  Me?  Well, she had a big blowup with my mother about the time of my birth.  Since I came - after - I was tainted and on the hate list.

It didn't help much when she found I'd married a black man.  She doesn't like inter-racial marriage, or people of any color but white.  She lost out on a loving granddaughter, one with an absolutely clean slate , a new person to learn about and love.

Nope. She tore up the letter I wrote and made it CLEAR I was dead to her.

One time my sister confided in me.  She was having a hard time with Hopie.

"She thinks you're dead, Heather.  That Ron killed you.  Do you want me to let her know you're still alive?"

I thought about it, sent up a quick prayer.

"No".

I don't want to be that person.  It's awful.