Where Do I Belong?

Last night I was having a particularly low night.  It wasn’t too low, and it was short, but still the thoughts of vulnerability were there.  I snuggled with my stuffie bear I named Gunnor and wondered, “Where do I belong?”

I had a friend that I was close with for a while and we had great communication, but no more.  He’s off doing his own thing and I’m left behind.  I miss this interaction we had and the critical conversations we often shared.  When I had a thought or an idea I wanted to explore, I would send him an e-mail and get a logical, well thought out, response back that challenged my opinion.  I enjoy this type of mental stimulation and I get bored without it.   I haven’t been able to find this type of communication with anyone else and I miss it.  In a way, I feel lost without it and I wonder if I’ll ever find someone that shares the same motivation to learn and share knowledge the same way he did.

All of these thoughts made me depressed but I still had an overall sense that I was okay.  The Seroquel my psychiatrist prescribed has started to take its effect along with the Lexapro I’ve been taking.  I noticed that I’m much calmer and not so manic lately.  My moods feel as though they are stabilizing now and not swinging so wildly like they were.  I know I’m sad but I still have underlying feelings of happiness and the feeling that everything will be okay.  It’s strange how medication can alter our neurochemistry and make us feel this way.

I’ve also noticed that my introversion is becoming stronger now that my disposition is mellowing out.  I find more and more that I don’t need, or want, to talk to anyone.  I sit at work content to do my job while interacting with as few people as possible.  In the evenings, I go home and make my dinner then read while being satisfied to live in my own bubble.  The word truly is “contentment”.  I am not starving for outside communication, or the need to interact with anyone else.  I am enjoying being alone, knowing the world is just outside going on without me and knowing that I could step into it at any time I choose.  I equate this to sitting at a sidewalk café watching the people walk on by, knowing I could join in at any time, but I’m simply happy here sipping my coffee alone and reading a book.  I’m good with letting the world continue to spin without my interaction.

Weekend recap:

This weekend was the 12-hour race at Sebring International Raceway.  This is where Mickey wanted to have his ashes be laid to rest.  I got there and immediately got lost.  Brian paid for a parking pass but I decided to use the free parking outside the track.  He found his way back to turn 10 while I had to walk the entire raceway which is a daunting task to place to navigate to begin with and was leaving me anxious.  Halfway there, I realized I had a small blister forming on the side of my foot that made it difficult to walk which left me even more frustrated than I already was at the moment. 

To get to the infield where Brian had parked, I had to cross over a car bridge with no foot traffic allowed.  The mean police officer yelled at me as I was trying to walk up and ask him how to get across.  He roughly turned me around and told me to wait by the tree and hitch a ride over the bridge.  As I walked up to this tree, I felt tears forming because the anxiety was building and I knew I couldn’t have a break down here, alone.

I stood by the tree and watched vehicle after vehicle cross the bridge and considered who I could ask to give me a ride over the bridge.  I finally gathered myself together and ran up to a large SUV that had his window rolled down and asked for a ride.  Before I even got my question out, he told me to get in the back.  I was stunned.  As I explained to him this was my first time at the track and why I was here, he told me that people do this sort of thing all the time and not to worry.  I felt relieved.  He even asked me if I wanted a ride somewhere on the other side but I jumped out at the base of the bridge.  That was definitely a new experience.

I finally found Brian and Lynn and said hi to Mickey inside Brian’s bag.  We watched the race for a while and then decided to go for a walk.  We found ourselves on a nice bluff between turns three and four where we sat and watched the race for a while longer.  Brian scooted down to the base of the bluff, punctured a hole in Mickey’s bag and laid his cremains out in the grass.  No one said a word to us.  We sat back on the bluff again and watched people walk around his ashes and the race in front of us for a while before deciding to get up and walk around again.

When we found our way back to turn one, and the main strip, I decided it was time for me to go.  My foot was sore and I was tired.  I made my way back to my car and drove away from the track leaving Mickey behind.  I cried most of the way northbound on Hwy 27 out of Sebring.  I kept thinking that he was being left behind and alone.  It was a terrible feeling to have and I couldn’t stop the tears.

I spent the next day with a friend.  We went to the Improv to see Christopher Titus perform.  I had a heavy heart, but the comedy was good.