Contentious or something

Are you a contentious woman?  Am I?  I was looking at Proverbs trying to figure out what in the world is going on with my family, and what should be my part in fixing it?

The baby is fine, but others aspects need some help.  I think it’s mostly my fault, but it is driven further by someone-who-shall-remain-nameless and his controlling actions.  But really, I’m the one in the wrong.

Or am I?  Of course I have bipolar disorder.  That’s difficult to deal with, I accept that.  But there is more to me than bipolar.  There is plenty of me who makes her own decisions and follows through with them.  I lose my temper even when I’m not manic.  I weep even when I’m not depressed.  I believe I need to be held accountable for my emotions (which are uncontrollable, but I do affect how they’re expressed) and actions.  And when someone does get in my way, unfortunately they get hurt – and I take responsibility for this.  Sort of.

We’re not on the verge of separation.  It’s not like that at all, but there have been unpleasant words exchanged, barbs that hurt, maybe things better left unsaid.  I have a whole lot to do with it.

“The wise woman builds her house, but the foolish tears it down with her own hands.” Proverbs 14:1

I am foolish about buying things and self-care.  Shopping makes me happy.  I like to own beautiful things and I like to wear beautiful clothes.  To do that you need to shop.  I also like to eat wonderful things.  To do these you either have to buy the food directly from the maker, or buy the ingredients to make it yourself.  It’s all tied together.

And it’s all foolishness.  It’s waste.  As my husband likes to rant about, it wastes gas.  It wastes time that I could be doing other things.

So, like a fool, instead of spending my time writing, reading, sweeping, cleaning I’m returning the stuff I bought.

(As a side note, in the past couple of days I tried to wear some of the new shoes and only one pair felt right.)

Instead of hearing about the track meet and how that meant, I got to have a “go upstairs and play now, little girl” talk with my husband about a clandestine purchase.  The arguments can be home building or home wrecking and the goal is for them to be home-building.

Are they?  Am I?


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