Wise Words from the Keeper of the Crazy

27 Jun

So…. I have a tendency to be a little…. dramatic?

I like to think I can blame this almost entirely on anxiety.

Most of the time, my mood is very middle of the road. The medication makes your highs not as high, but your lows not as low (and when you’ve had those lows, you’ll willingly take this middle ground, because the alternative leaves you unable to function for stretches of time. And no one likes a friend/girlfriend/employee who can’t get herself out of bed and into the shower.)


Sometimes, the crazy breaks free. Usually, this is due to an outside source infiltrating my happy little world. This time? It was an evil antibiotic, bound and determined to ruin my good name. And coupled with the crazy? It damn near happened. (Note: This is a story about me taking an antibiotic, anti-anxiety medication, and drinking, all at the same time. Yes, I know that at 27, I should’ve known better. Yes, I know I shouldn’t drink on my anti-anxiety medication in the first place. No, that does not normally stop me. Usually, if I’m going to have a side-effect, it’s going to be “tired”, not BAT SHIT INSANE. Are you done with the lecture now?)

I found myself trying to wrangle the crazy and get her back into her cage this past weekend. It’s been a while since she’s come out to play, and truly? I DO NOT MISS HER WHEN SHE’S NOT AROUND. Most of the time, she makes an appearance when I’ve been drinking (my mother says this fancy trait comes from my father. Lucky me.) She also loves amber colored liquor (whiskey is her favorite). Cutting out the 7 & 7’s (gross, seriously, when was I ever so desperate to get drunk that I resorted to Seagrams 7?) and Crown Royal, and finally getting the medication right has done a pretty nice job of keeping the crazy penned up over the last three or so years.

I should’ve known better.

Apparently even my beloved Corona reacts badly with this certain antibiotic, and the crazy made her Houston debut.

After fireworks fueled near-meltdown (am I the only person who hates fireworks? They’re so loud and bright. And terrifying.), I found myself in a blacked out world of drunkenness. Which, had I done the appropriate research, I would’ve learned was a distinct possibility with the combination of fun things I take. Who knew? Not me! Or, unfortunately, the unsuspecting person sharing a hotel room with me/the crazy.

I didn’t break anything (I hope?), and no one got stabbed (I don’t think?) but I made a real fool of myself. Nice move, SS. I also remember 0.0% of the entire incident. For which I am truly grateful, because I think I would die of shame if I actually did remember it. It’s bad enough that it had to be witnessed by another human being.

This led to three (yes, three) days of incredible embarrassment, guilt (because I can feeling guilty about anything), and remorse.

And I STILL feel like a douche canoe!

I guess the moral of the story is… well. I’m not really sure there is a moral. Walk softly and carry a big stick? If you also have a crazy, remember to invest in an expensive padlock and throw the key into a really deep river?

No, the moral is… it happens to the best of us. We can’t time it – there is no scheduling your staff meeting around the crazy’s visit to town. Surround yourself with people who love you despite your crazy (even if your crazy makes them inclined to take a short vacation from you post visit – can you blame them?) Have someone on speed-dial who can understand you when you’re crying because you’re embarrassed that the crazy made an unwelcome stop at your fancy hotel and terrified that you ruined something important. Stock up on ice cream to placate yourself during your self-imposed exile.

And for God’s sake. Google your prescriptions before you take them.

Now, I have to go to Home Depot and buy a new padlock. Anyone know where I can find a deep river in this part of Texas?




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