Thursday, October 23, 2008

Day 73 on Lexapro.

Day 51 on Lamictal.

posted several days later…

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I think one of the reasons I was afraid to reconnect with old friends is because I didn’t want to be reminded of who I had been. I knew that many of them had seen me at my worst and would remember things I had tried to forget.

And some of them would remember things I had forgotten completely.

This day, I spoke on the phone with one of my favorite friends from the past. She and I had been involved in a performing group together and had been joined at the hip in junior high.

We enjoy talking and laughing now as much as we did then.

And the funny this is, she is bipolar, too.

So I know she doesn’t judge me for the ways that I have been or the ways that I am now.

But on the phone this night, she reminded me of an incident about which I had completely forgotten.

“I remember those paranoid fits you used to have,” she said, referring to a time when I must have been around 13 years old.

“Paranoid fits?!” I was intrigued.

“Yeah, those times you used to call me and were scared to death because you thought someone was in the house with you.”

Boom.

Yeah.

I had done that.

“I was so freaked out for you when you would call like that,” she said.

Wow. I would have been freaked out for someone if they had done that, too.

A knot formed in my stomach. I remembered one incident in particular where I had been left alone in the house and was sure I saw someone walk by in the hallway. And I head noises…probably natural, every day noises…but they almost paralyzed me with fear.

I remember turning off the television and hiding behind the couch. Then, I snuck out into the unattached garage (which my parents used as an office) and hid under the desk. It is then that I remember calling my friend in a panic.

As she recounted her memory of it over the phone this night, my heart sunk. I hated who I was then…so timid and scared of absolutely everything.

Hiding under a desk is just not normal behavior.

For about an hour after this incident returned to me, I was distraught. I hated the girl that I was and the woman I had become…because I was so embarrassed for that child I could barely stand it.

So I called E. Liz and told her that I was feeling awful about myself.

“That’s just freaking crazy,” I told her. “Why would I ever do something like that?”

“Because you were in a time of your life when you were very vulnerable. When you don’t feel safe, you get scared more easily.”

And I knew she was right. It might have been crazy, but it made sense.

And that is all I needed.

For my crazy to make sense.

Because understanding the logical reasons behind seemingly illogical actions makes it so much easier to make it to the next day.