Coming up on the anniversary of me going crazy. Or, one of the times. The Big One. 15 on the Richter scale. Which reminds me of a story. Member Window Boy?
He is difficult to explain or describe which is why I have written about him so much. Anyway, our entire saga happened before I got diagnosed although - looking back - he clearly walked me through a couple "episodes." Without knowing what he was doing or what "it" was.
We met in our 20s. We were babies.
So. About 5 years ago, I was in Chicago at an improv thing. As you do. The majority of my friends were in improv, and so was he. He still is. And he was there. I have not seen him in I don't know how long. We are not in touch. Not for any bad reason. Just because.
I had a BOLT of stress because ... I've changed so much since we've seen each other. But so has he. So whatever. We saw each other "across a crowded room" and had an awkward "how are you" conversation b/c we basically never had "how are you" conversations so we have no skills.
We always cut to the chase. I was tipsy, so was he, so when he said "How are you" with a wince of awkwardness (lol) - I said, "Fine. I was diagnosed bipolar a couple years ago."
I mean, come on. what am else am I gonna say. "I'm doing well"? He knew me when. He took this in (he took everything in: this is why he is a genius at improv, and this is why he was able to deal with me), thinking about it, about me back then, nodded and said, "That checks out."
lol for DAYS. I was very heartened by all the support I got when I went so insane - I haven't even told the half of it - but "That checks out" - said in a flat matter-of-fact tone - was my favorite response. And, of course, after that, we were fine, and had a blast catching up.
It said it all. That was our relationship dynamic and there it was again, so many years later, with zero contact in between.
