Promises

I was really agitated all day yesterday. I didn't notice it until last night, after picking a fight with Robert. Oops.

I wanted so badly to leave my house, to get out and do something.
I was bored and tired of sitting in my house watching the same bad TV shows on Netflix (Cheers as of late, don't judge me).
I wanted to do something fun, something interesting.
I wanted to get out of my head and spend time with someone else. I was tired of having my beast as my only company.

It was Robert's first day off and he wanted to do whatever he wanted, which happened to be nothing. After a few minutes of rethinking, I was able to get past that and decided that his plans weren't going to hold me back. I reached out to a few people, my mom included. She agreed to pick me up on her way home from work. I was glad to be getting out of the house and to spend some time with her, because as of late the majority of our communication has been over the phone. She works a lot and I haven't been leaving my house. But then my relief ended quickly, when we got to her house and everyone was doing what they each wanted to do, nothing. I was in the same place, just different. I was having a hard time sitting still and started pacing back and forth.

I was hungrier than ever and so impatient. And then the fighting.
It wasn't the worst one Robert and I have had. It doesn't even make it on the list of bad fights we've had. It was just stupid and unnecessary. Robert saw that from the beginning but I went all in.
And of course I lost, we both did. Because no one ever really wins a fight.

I'm really caught up in it, aren't I?

Day before yesterday I was talking to my mom about the option to be hospitalized. There are benefits to that choice; I would have access to immediate care, my meds could be adjusted and I'd have a psychiatrist and therapist to see. But I really don't want to do that.
I don't want to let fourteen year-old Isabel down. Teenage Isabel that coming out of the psych ward after hurting herself, promised that she would never go back there. Ever.
Adult Isabel knows better, that choosing to receive medical attention isn't a sign of failure and if needed could be the best thing I do for my whole self. I don't think it's come to the point that I need hospitalization, but I have to keep it in mind for now. I have to keep it on the table as long as I'm caught up in this.
A promise is a promise, though. And it is one I'd like to keep, if I can.

But I've also promised to tell my mom when I'm feeling unsafe. If I've made a plan to harm myself, to whatever severity or end, I have to let her know. So far, I've kept that one too.
Sometimes it feels like I can only choose one of these. Like I can only keep a promise to my mom or to myself. Who would I choose, if faced with that decision? I honestly don't know.