A few years ago, I was called a bipolar psycho bitch. It was from a reader that didn’t like what I had to say in one of my recent blogs. She said that if she asked my ex husband he would probably say that I was one. Truth is, he probably would and truth be told I’ve been called worse. You name it, I’ve been called it. If she really wants, and my husband strongly recommends that she doesn’t, I can show her exactly what kind of psycho bitch I really can be. Don’t get me wrong, I am not bragging. People have told me that they are afraid of me when I am mad. I’m not proud that I can lose my shit. When I say lose it, I mean lose it. I can tear a person apart and they won’t even know what hit them. You want to see mean? I will use every misgiving God ever gave you to make you feel like a little ant and I am lightening fast with come backs. I will reduce you to tears. Don’t cross me. I don’t threaten people, I warn them. Don’t unleash the wrath. I’m kinda like the Hulk and I will smash you. I used to have a little more control over my anger. My whole life I’ve had a short fuse. I’m not going to blame it on my Irish decent or that my mother has a relatively short temper. I’ll own it. My ex husband said that I have a fuse at both ends so it burns twice as fast. I started noticing a difference in my anger around the time I was diagnosed. It felt different on the inside. Before, I would get mad, yell, cry and then calm down relatively easy. I didn’t really feel much guilt about getting mad. Now I get mad, explode, and have to go off by myself to calm down. My insides feel like they are on fire and I feel terrible about the path of destruction I left behind. For me irritability usually comes in the brink of a hypomanic episode, during depressive episodes, and like most women, during PMS. I may get upset other times like normal people, but I can usually control it. During an episode, I have absolutely no control. If you make me mad, the bomb goes off. One time, before I was diagnosed, I had a psychotic episode. I went with my friends to where my husband, at the time, worked to rent a movie. He and I weren’t getting along and I was already very upset with him. On my way out the door, I apparently lost it. I don’t remember what was said. All I remember is my friend walking me out the door. She told my friend in the car that she saw my head literally spin around. I talk about the experience as my “out of body” experience. My friend laughs about it now, but was very concerned at the time. My ex-husband described living with me as always “walking on eggshells.” Now if anyone makes me mad, I try to walk away from the situation. I don’t like to lose it. Medication and walking helps. Anything to get out the negative energy. Blogging helps a lot. I get my frustrations out and then I don’t dwell on them anymore. I also do yoga. I am hoping that it will also calm my anxiety as well as calm the demon inside me. I don’t blame bipolar for having anger. I blame it for my complete and utter lack of control. It sucks for me because I love to fight for what I believe in. My husband will debate with me and sometimes I get a little loud. He says, “Calm down, don’t get mad.” Don’t confuse my passion for being angry. I’m loud, I like to be heard. That doesn’t mean I’m mad. I have a bad habit of talking louder if I think someone isn’t listening to me. You will know when I’m mad. It is unmistakable. Now that I know where it is coming from, I am working on making it better.