Crazy Lady

I am crazy. People retort, “Everyone is crazy.” No. At times everyone does crazy things. I am mentally ill. There is a difference. Being mentally ill is not all bad. That is, if the illness is bipolar.

Schizophrenia is horrible. Hallucinations, imagining being attacked by snakes or hearing voices which command a person to kill – that is hell on earth. I am lucky; I am not schizophrenic.

Being bipolar means I am not psychotic (i.e. completely irrational). I just do foolish things. Everyone has “highs” and “lows.” Until I was in my mid-50's, I thought that was just part of the “normal” woman’s monthly cycle, even though my “highs” and “lows” were extreme.

For a week each month I was full of energy. “Come on, kids, let’s do something exciting.” In Michigan it was trips to the science museum at Cranbrook or to old Fort Wayne in Detroit. In Texas I drove over a farmer’s field to find dinosaur footprints on the banks of the Paluxy River. In Illinois we went to Wheaton where the boys climbed on army tanks at Cantigny. I never hesitated to drive 40 miles to Chicago’s Field Museum or the Museum of Science and Industry. Or take the kids hiking and camping on the Appalachian Trail or for many other adventures.

Then I would wake up one morning so “tired” it was difficult to get out of bed. It was all I could do to put my clothes on before my children came home from school.

I looked forward to menopause. In addition to being an end to the usual physical problems of being female, I expected my energy and emotions to “level.” Instead, I became mentally much more volatile. Twice I was close to suicide. At other times, when the legal speed limit was 55 mph, I drove 70 miles an hour on icy highways.

I was in my mid-50's when finally I was diagnosed as manic-depressive. It was a relief to know why I made hasty and foolish decisions. Since then I have been on medication. My illness has been under control. For most of the time.

As near as I can determine, in the last three years I’ve made only two hasty decisions. The first was two years ago on the afternoon I called American Airlines and found out I had enough miles for a free trip to Europe. Two hours later I had tickets for departure and return dates and had made a deposit for a $3,000 Elderhostel to Prague, Vienna, and Budapest. Who but a crazy woman would do that without thinking it over for at least one day? I went on the trip and had a wonderful time.

The second time I made an impulsive decision it changed my life. In June I saw the apartment in this retirement community and immediately wrote a check for the first month’s rent. Since then I’ve had to sell my house and go through the ordeal of sorting, discarding, packing, and moving. Not fun. Unexpected were the problems in getting a new telephone number and internet connection.

Now I am settled in the new place; I like the lifestyle. No cooking, no dishwashing, no scrubbing or vacuuming. I don’t have to drive to dialysis on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Jackie takes me in the facility’s station wagon. I have no regrets about impulsive way I changed my life.

Even if my hasty decisions demonstrate that I am truly crazy.