The Holidays

The holidays are officially here.  Thanksgiving is actually my favorite holiday, but this year I am not so festive.  I am a little down because we are not in our house anymore.  Gone are our private traditions, my way of doing things, my own personal touches.  I find that I have to yield to someone else, which has never been my strong suit.  I suppose it should be a compromise, but since it is not my house and since this person is not someone who is inclined to doing things any way other than her own, I feel resigned to letting it be. 

I feel like I am forced to return to certain traditions of my childhood, which I intentionally shook off as an adult.  I was eager to do things my way when I had my own family, so unpleasant were my experiences during the holidays with my family.  I haven't wanted to cook this year, in fact have imagined not doing a single thing in my head, because I cannot cook the meal the way I do it.  My aunt seems to have these grandiose plans for the meal, which she speaks like she is going to cook herself.  She can't possibly considering she is disabled for the most part. 

Christmas will be different too.  The one thing I get to insist on keeping is that we open presents on Christmas morning.  When I was a kid we always did it on Christmas Eve.  Needless to say, we never really were allowed to believe in Santa as a result.  The presents were stacked under the tree days or weeks ahead of Christmas. We were done opening presents by 9pm the night before, so there was no glee at waking up to the motherload on Christmas morning for us.  It was all practicality--no one wanted to have to clean up the mess from the presents AND cook on the same day.  My kids will believe in Santa as long as I can get away with it.

I realized last night that a big part of my sadness and bitterness has to do with not being in our house.  I feel a sense of loss and that is not easy to manage in the condition I am.  I am better by leaps and bounds than I was, but I see that there is still a good ways to go.  I know I'm having a natural reaction to the situation, I'm just not coping as well as I could or should.  Today is going to be difficult because I am depressed and don't want to do anything.  I think I'm going to be expected to do stuff anyway, and that's not going to be a fun situation if I'm not coping well.  I hope I can hold my tongue and muster up the energy to do it.  It makes me nervous because I always got in trouble during the holidays when I was a kid.  I always did something that pissed someone off and I ended up getting my face slapped.  Consequently, I feel like this and am afraid that there will be a disagreement that turns into something bigger than it should be.   I certainly don't think I'm going to get my face slapped, but I don't want to have a shouting match, either.  I have felt close to losing my temper lately.  Maybe some hypomania seeping around the edges.  I don't know.

At any rate, I am hoping to just get through the day.  I don't have any delusions of a warm and fun afternoon with my family.  I don't think I have that in me.  I am probably going to need Ativan to make it through it.  That makes me even sadder.  Thanksgiving really is my favorite holiday.

Unexpected Results

Last week, I was unable to bear the waiting game I was playing.  I ended up sending another email to my friend, as my husband had suggested.  I said everything that I felt about her walking away from me, from what she didn't know about what happened, to my confusion, to my sorrow.  At the time I wrote it, it was just to get my feelings off my chest, a way of purging the feelings that were flowing through me at the time.  I hadn't "intended" to send it.  I put in her address with the intention of "thinking it over" before sending it or not, but I pressed enter after I finished typing the address and off it went.  So, whether or not it was actually an accident that I sent it is something worthy of debate.

My email actually elicited a response.  An unexpected response.  She told me that I was and had always been her best friend and sister and she didn't want our friendship to end.  She admitted to having been afraid and not knowing what to do, which is why she ran off that day.  She just wanted to put everything behind us and move forward. 

Of course I'm willing to put everything behind us, but I also kind of have a WTF??? response.  7 months and I've been thinking she doesn't love me because she turned her back on me, and she responds as if she's just been waiting for me to call or write?  I don't quite understand.  I'm sure we'll cover this in a conversation someday, but for now I'm not sure how I feel.  I'm happy to have my friend back, but...I'm confused. 

Maybe she's just regretted her actions all this time.  She did say she has thought about me and the kids everyday since.    Maybe she didn't know how to reconnect after she did what she did.  I just don't know and can't begin to think for her.  I already did that over the last 7 months and it caused me a lot of grief.  I probably shouldn't start doing that again.

We spent some time texting on Saturday, just catching up.  It was nice, but lacking the ease and humor we used to have.  I guess that is to be expected.  It's hard to catch up through text messaging.  One thing I have felt over the last two days though, is that I now have a lack of emotion.  I thought I'd be over the moon if she responded positively.  While I was really happy to read her email, afterward, it was kind of like it didn't matter anymore.  I don't know what I think about that.  Good thing I see my therapist tonight.

So that's the update on the subject.  I'm sure there will be more to say as everything unfolds in the future.  For now, I'm glad to have my friend back.  I am indeed a lucky girl--Bipolar hasn't taken everything from me.  In fact, I can now say that it hasn't taken much of anything from me.  It's hurt me and the people around me, but the love of the people in my life is stronger than it is.  I guess I can say there is actually an upside to being Bipolar for me...it has shown me how loved I am.  I probably would have taken it for granted under less dramatic circumstances.     

New Day, Same Song

I'm sort of stuck on the same theme right now.  It's kind of hard to think about much else, at least in terms of what I am compelled to write about.  I'm not obsessing during my day, fortunately. 

I spoke with my therapist about this last night.  He thought I might be premature in coming to the conclusion that I won't hear back from her after only four days.  He said she might be feeling conflicted after all this time.  I told him I'd rather grieve now and get it over with and be happily surprised if she responds later.  I really don't think she will respond, though.

I am not sure what part of this is harder.  The fact that she simply turned her back on me after all these years?  The fact that she did it and never in a million years would I do it to her, not even now, if she needed me?  The fact that I didn't do anything of my own volition to hurt her?  The fact that I am completely powerless to make things right?  The fact that I am completely clueless as to the actual reason why she ran off and decided to end our friendship altogether?  Is any one of these things in particular more painful than the others?  No, the hardest part is just that I lost my best friend.

One thing that did help me last night was something my husband said.  I told him about the realization I had that the people I actually did things to hurt; the ones who have good reason to turn their backs on me, are the ones who are here supporting me, taking care of me and loving me.  He told me that that should tell me something about myself.  The actions of people like my mom and my best friend should tell me something about them, but the fact that the people I have harmed are still here should say something about me and my worth.  Not being someone who has had the greatest self-esteem life-long, comments about my worth have usually glanced off of me as simple niceties.  This is the first comment that ever penetrated.  It really meant the world to me.  After that, the loss of my friend was just a little more bearable.

I think what she is doing is terrible.  It's just wrong.

Waiting...

So it's been 3 days since I sent my email.  I am not sure how long I should wait, hoping for some sort of response.  I know that she doesn't always have time to get on the computer because her kids are frequently on it, and that often her computer(s) are not functional.  Hard part is there is just no way for me to know.  As the days pass though, I obviously begin to feel that there is little hope for some sort of response.  I have to accept that our longtime friendship is truly over and I am dumbfounded that it actually could be.  It makes me contemplate the entirety of our friendship; was any of it real?  Was I the only one who was truly invested in it?  The only real friend in the relationship?  Were we just lucky to not have faced any major trials in 35 years?  If we had, would our relationship have crumbled long before?

She doesn't even know what actually happened.  If she doesn't answer, she never will and that is a shame.

I wish I could remember more than snippets of those last two days she was around.  I only remember the moments I was somewhat lucid, and just before the waves of delusion were about to crash over me.  I do have some memories of the moments I was panicked and needed to run away, but there is also some dissociation from my own mind involved with that; if that makes any sort of sense.  It's like I was not actually part of my mind, but sitting in the recesses of it and being controlled by some other thing.  I have little recollection of my interaction with her.  Well, anyone really.  I was so overcome by my fear of being killed that I was focused on acting normal so that I could make a run for it at my first opportunity.  In my more "rational" moments, I was focused on not being sent to the hospital.  At that point, I was aware that I was having a problem, but didn't want anyone to send me away.  How was I coming across?  Did I really seem that far out of my head and that's why me running to the neighbors was the breaking point for her?  I do remember that most of that day I had stayed in my room.  I had come out once but didn't say anything to her.  That's what I remember anyway.  The day before was scary, yes, but she had no knowledge that she had morphed into one of the conspirators to my murder that second day, did she?  She couldn't.  I hadn't even told my husband.  In fact, the only one who know that I was afraid that someone was trying to kill me was her.  She knew that I was afraid of my husband.  The only ugly thing I said to her was when she tried to talk to me was when I was on the phone with 911.  I told her to get the f*ck away from me.  That is when she left.  I can't believe that would be enough for her to never want to speak to me again.  Unless I said something else that I don't remember.  I suppose that is possible.  I remember thinking her surprised look seemed one of feigned innocence, but I think I just repeated what I had said.  Maybe I said something worse.  I just don't know.

It's ironic; the people that have real cause to turn their backs on me are the ones who are here standing by me, loving me and supporting me through all this.  People like my mom and my best friend, people I haven't really done anything to hurt, have turned their backs on me.  It leaves me feeling incredulous and hurt; yet humbled, grateful and so very fortunate at the same time.  Ultimately, because of the people who truly love me, I'll get beyond those who really don't.  Even for what I have lost, I have real people of infinite value in my life; people I cannot and would not want to live without.  That's really what matters.

I guess I'll give it just a day or two more.  After that, it doesn't really matter anymore.  I gave it a shot.

My Best Friend Part 2

Yesterday was my best friend's birthday.  This is the friend who was with me when my psychotic episode began and she basically took off running.  I haven't had any contact with her since, and it's been 7 months now.  I have long contemplated writing her to try to explain what happened, to let her know that she shouldn't be afraid, that I didn't completely lose my mind.  I never did, for fear of being rejected.  It's been painful enough being abandoned by someone who has been my best friend for 35 years.  I just couldn't put myself out there and take the risk of being crushed again.

I sent her a brief email yesterday.

I only said that although my email was probably unwelcome, I truly hoped she had a great day and that I missed her.  I wanted to keep it short and to the point.  If she opens the door by answering, then we can have a conversation about everything.  If she totally blows it off, then I will know exactly where I stand.  My husband thinks even if she blows it off I should send one follow up email explaining everything just to get it all off my chest.  To me that smacks of begging, so I don't think I will do that.  I don't know.

Now I'm left with a lot of unhappy emotions.  I can't predict what she will do.  I know her better than anyone, but it's hard not to project what I would do in the same situation.  Part of me can't conceive of her not responding.  We have been best friends for so long, have such a strong bond...how can she not?  I know her well enough to understand why she ran--the fear and confusion she must have felt.  I don't hold that against her.  Those are the very reasons I think she might not respond--her tendency to avoid difficult situations. 

I can't for a minute accept that she suddenly stopped loving or caring about me.  We have always been like sisters, so long and so deep is our history.  It's so painful when I think about how she has turned her back on me, even if I understand that she probably doesn't realize that is what she did.  The notion that she may not turn around now that I've "tapped her on the shoulder" brings me to tears.

I wish I could be assured in what to expect in this situation.  I don't want to constantly be checking my email only to hear crickets when I open it up.  It will be torture.  How many days do I let go by without a response before I come to accept that one will not be forthcoming?

I am trying to convince myself that she isn't going to respond, but the hope is so strong I don't know if I will be able to do that.  I'm hoping once I get back into my weekly routine, I'll be busy enough that I won't be so focused on this.  That I will stop praying for her response, because either she is going to, or she isn't.  It's as simple as that.

Blocked Again

I've been absent for awhile.  Another case of Blogger's Block again, I guess.  I just haven't had much to say.  My life has been fairly hum-drum, nothing of note, no real problems nor insights to share.  I'm not one to sit at my computer and relate what kind of sandwich I had with which kind of savory mustard.  I know some people do, but I guess I'm not such a great writer that I can make that sound really interesting.  Then again, I don't really know anyone who can.

I lived through Halloween.  It's always been a source of anxiety for me.  I dread taking my kids out trick or treating the days leading up to it, and even more so the day of.  I managed to get through it without Ativan and only breaking out in a mild sweat.  It wasn't easy, but it could have been much worse.  No matter what, I don't think Halloween will ever be fun for me.

I've definitely seen some improvement in my condition.  I've been doing more things; I was able to go to a birthday party with my daughter.  (Did I already blog about that?)  I managed to spend time talking with a couple parents and didn't vomit or faint.  I've actually become somewhat friendly with one of the mothers.  We chat when we see each other at the school now.  Far from being friends, but at least it's kind of something.  I'm taking my son to karate lessons.  That's a big step for me, sitting in the room with other parents, too.  I do that Ativan-free so far.  I've also done a little bit of marketing, too.  Will wonders never cease?

At the same time, I've been a little down lately.  Not enormously, but just a bit.  This week has been an effort to get out of bed and morning routine with the kids has been a chore to me.  I've also been very, very tired.  I saw Dr. Tween today and she thinks it may have something to do with the change in seasons.  She's adding a low dose of Wellbutrin to my cocktail to see if that helps some.  As I was with the increases in my Zoloft in the past, I'm cautiously agreeable.  She's been a godsend to me, so I have full faith in her professional judgment.  I just proceed with eyes wide open on the anti-depressants.  Especially the Wellbutrin, since that's what I was taking when I had my psychotic episode.  Hopefully the benefits we are shooting for are what we get, because that would be awesome.

Other than this, there's still really nothing to say.  I hate not blogging.  I may have to resort to poetry.  Pray that I come up with some thoughts first.