Stepmom backs out, for the sake of ‘the blended family’

Being a Stepmom is full of self-disappointments.  At the same time you can, over time,  build up the strength to say what you can/cannot handle.  Take this weekend for example.  I have checked myself into a vibey, young downtown hotel.  My stepkids are at my home for the weekend.  My stepson specifically is my trigger and needs to be avoided at all costs at this specific point in time.

So, for these three nights, I am watching TV in my hotel room and will spend time blogging at the various trendy restaurants and pubs in the area.  I am 46 and a working mother, so this is not acceptable behaviour.  However I feel an episode coming on, and know what will set me off.  My temper rises quickly, with no pause between emotions and irrational action.  Avoiding triggers is sometimes the best option in this state.

My room at 12 Decades Hotel, downtown Johannesburg. A tribute to our history. The pelmet says A Part Love, A Part Hate.

This hiatus will also give me time to sleep – this creeping depression is slowing my movements and speech.  I am tired all the time. My brain is on a go-slow with poor recall.

As precautions, I have also seen my psychologist and psychiatrist this week, tweaked my meds, taken time off work, spent time with my kids and mom doing pottery, and going to gym – even if I don’t feel like it.  I have the privilege of having a personal trainer waiting for me and the responsibility of having paid for the sessions.

My view from my bed at 12 Decades Hotel, Johannesburg. Like I feel – holding the world up with my hands.

As a stepmom and seasoned bipolar person, instead of disappointed, I feel proud of myself for operating so decisively. I hope to have nipped this bipolar depression in the bud.  Every time this year I have an episode – seasonal bipolar – and this year, I would very much prefer not to be hospitalised.

So any attempts at blending are left in the dusk and stepmom and stepson don’t rub shoulders right now.

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