Something Clever Goes Here

Remember when I said on '5,000 Day' that I had something to write about, but wasn't ready to? I think I am now.

My best friend for the past 20 years has been Tiffany. We met in elementary school and remained friends throughout middle and high school...eventually we became neighbors. We would spend our summer nights on the swings at a local park. Just swinging away the time...talking about everything you could think of. When high school ended, we went our seperate ways: me to Purdue University...her to Indiana University and then Harvard Law. We saw each other rarely...VERY rarely. But, our friendship was like a well-read book. You could pick up at any page and feel like you had never put it down. While at IU, she met a great guy named Bill...and through the years, to Boston, they became engaged and planned a wedding for this fall. She asked me to be her 'Person of Honor' and I was honored to accept. The wedding is in 2 weeks and surely will be a fantastic and memorable day.

Here's where the glitch comes.

Long-time readers know I have my ups and downs. I was long ago diagnosed as manic, but managed to keep myself mostly under control. I can usually recognize these feelings when they occur and keep their outward effect to a minimum. Privately, my highs would be ecstasy, my lows...mind-numbingly low. Over the course of the past month or so I have been taking a lot of painkillers for my back. Not a LOT, like you are thinking a lot. A Lortab and Daypro in the morning and a Flexiril at night. I have noticed, though, that I have been having mood swings more than ever. I spoke to my doctor about the chances of the medicine causing the change in mood. She said that, while possible, it was unlikely the meds...but to try to keep track of when I took my meds and when I noticed a swing. Unfailingly, my mood would drop 4-5 hours after taking medicine. Thinking about it, I came to realize that I wasn't even having highs and lows...just lows interspersed with various bouts of drug-induced hilarity. Every day at work, around 2:00-3:00 my mood would completely crash in the course of about 15 minutes.

Most of the time I would start to stress about money and whatever minor indiscretion one of my co-workers may have been performed. Whatever it was, it would reduce me to silence...preferable to the screaming fit I was having in my head. It doesn't help that the money I'm making is barely covering the expenses I have. My paychecks have been just enough to make bills, food, gas, and a few cigarettes. Not even alcohol...(I know, right?!) This forced me to make one of the toughest decisions I have ever faced. I had to e-mail Tiffany and tell her that I could not be her 'Person of Honor'. At best, I could not afford it...and at worst I would make a complete spectacle of myself by having a breakdown in front of 80-or-so people I have never met.

Tiffany called me last night (Wednesday) and brought something else to my attention. I was not only ignoring and neglecting myself...I was putting my friends through it, too. While my entire point was NOT to involve anyone else in my problems, my efforts only worsened the effect. My family is not one that shared emotions freely. If you had a problem, you should tend to it yourself. If it was something you couldn't fix and had to bring to the attention of another, it better have a concrete solution. Emotions? Bah! One of my favorite lines from 'Girls Will be Girls': "Feelings are like trasures. They should be buried." I was, unknowingly, testing strong friendships and precluding new ones.

Tiffany was, understandably, hurt...and angry. I promised her I would speak to her mother about seeking some local help. I have always had a tentative (at best) relationship with therapists. I tend to guard myself...and put up a wall of false emotion. I invent easily remedied problems instead of trying to explore deeper, more troubling issues. Not this time, though...I hope. I do understand that I need help...Not help in the 'call the men in the white coats' kind of help. Just in the 'maybe some nice pink pills will help' way.

So, next Tuesday, we begin a new chapter in Matty McMattMatt's Adventures in Psychotherapy.