I can be feeling good about my life for a change and my mom has to throw crap in the mix. Case in point...As some of you may know, one of my biggest fears was that I would never find a good relationship with a nice guy because I was a few pounds overweight, 57, been married three times and had bipolar disorder. I spent the last two years longing to be with my ex-husband I left on afternoon on one of my "life-changing" manic episodes. It was too late, he was happy with his new relationship and even though we were friends, I expected to get back together, and he was happy just being in touch, behind his new love's back, and there would never be a chance for us to reunite.

I had to let go of that dream and move forward. I didn't want to, but I had to or I could never recover from my nasty mood disorder. So like all 57 year old women wanting to meet a man would like too start a relationship with an overweight, three times married bipolar woman, I started checking out the internet dating services. There were a few men joking about not wanting anyone with bipolar baggage, etc. I was about to give up when a guy sent me an email and we went to lunch. In his profile he mentioned his first wife was bipolar to the max. I thought this could be a deal breaker. But once we met, we clicked. I felt it was fair to tell him right away that I had mood disorders too. He was so OK with that. He had done his research and knows it's a disease and not a person. His first wife tried to commit suicide many times and he had to take his children out of that environment. But he always thought she was a wonderful wife and mother until her disease took over. In other words, he was OK with my mood disorders. If we furthered our relationship he would ask that I stay compliant with my meds, exercise, eat well, and get talk therapy. Plus he was a real nice guy, respectful, a gentleman and I really liked him. So here's where my mom comes in...

Even though I went from a three week detox from effexor and starting wellbutrin and was prescribed atavan twice a day for the ramp up time for wellbutrin, she insisted my better mood was related to Chad. My new meds had nothing to do with it.

She also said she doesn't want me to get married again; thinks I'm too focused on having a relationship with someone even though I spent the last two and a half years (since my last husband passed away). Maybe she forgot how lousy it feels to have no one to hug and tell you everything's going to OK. Maybe she feels I don't need that. Maybe she thinks I'm going to run away as I did in the past. I think it's different now. I know what's wrong and I'm doing my work to recover from this nasty disease. I'm 57. She's 75. She doesn't want me to have another relationship and I'm really angry right now. I don't want to talk to her or see her. But I have to take her to her last radiation treatment tomorrow, where she'll once again apologize for saying all that to me. Then there's next week and we'll start again.