Stuffed into a Teapot

Alice: From the moment I fell down that rabbit hole I’ve been told what I must do and who I must be. I’ve been shrunk, stretched, scratched, and stuffed into a teapot. I’ve been accused of being Alice and of not being Alice, but this is my dream. I’ll decide where it goes from here.

I’ve always wondered what part of me would stick out the spout of the teapot if I got stuffed into one. Would it be an arm, a leg, my head? Or would I fit entirely into the teapot without anything sticking out at all?

A teapot is a beautiful thing. Some are a works of art in their own right. They give forth a heavenly beverage from nothing more than hot water and some dried leaves. If you’re really bored you can create a tempest in a teapot. I’m good at that, but then I sometimes go a tad overboard and create a typhoon in a teapot. What can I say? An old friend used to say “anything worth doing is worth over doing.” I took her seriously.

So back to Alice, whom I am identifying with today. I have an appointment to get my head shrunk this afternoon. I’m freaking out and feel nervous and antsy. Part of me wants to say, “Well Psychiatrist Lady, all that stuff I said last week, you know, that part where I told you I was so agitated that I wanted to climb out of my skin, the part where I was doing things and not remembering doing them? I was just having a bad day. I’m fine now, really, I swear on a stack of bibles.” But that’s a lie because I was having a bad 3 months. I won’t get anywhere or get help if I don’t fess up and be truthful about what’s really going on in my head.

There is a part of me who wants to put my hands over my ears and yell “la la la la, na na na, I can’t HEEAARR you.” But that’s denial. I’m in denial about being in denial. How’s that for a conundrum? I know I need to do this, but the 2-year-old in me wants to throw and tantrum and refuse to participate.

“I’m OK now; I don’t need no stinkin meds! I just needed to vent a little.” Uh, yea right. I sure don’t need to scald everyone in a 3 mile radius with my boiling hot lava volcano of rage that erupts at inopportune times and for no apparent reason. It’s not fair to those around me to refuse treatment and most of all it’s not taking care of myself. I’m not a hermit and so what I do or say affects those around me in a big way, especially Mr. Husband who catches it at point-blank range.

So I’ll go this psych doc and bare all. Emotionally anyway, I harbor no plan to disrobe in her office. That kind of attention I don’t need.

Today I’m obsessing about teapots and hot lava. Tomorrow I plan to drag out some projects that fell by the wayside. Maybe do a little painting or finish knitting that scarf I started 2 years ago. Whoopee!

2 responses

  1. I hope you tell your headshrinker pretty much what you wrote here. A good one will understand what you’re saying.

    1. Oh, I absolutely did. She told me that was pretty much normal for a bipolar mind. 🙂

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