Monday, September 05, 2005

My brain.

It bothers me that the mail will not run today due to the holiday. That means that I can't send a card or letter today. I already have one addressed and ready to go... but it will have to sit here until tomorrow. Every day is so important right now.

Yesterday I allowed myself a what if. I don't know why I do that. I should know better by now. I could see my friend, well and happy, and calling me every few days to talk. I thought how nice it will be to have him in my life again; to have the opportunity to know who he is now.

I have always had a hard time walking the fine line between optimism and pessimism. My heart wants to be full of hope and to think only positive thoughts. But the cynical part of me that often has a much louder voice than does my heart, screams at me to be realistic and never, ever get my hopes up about anything. Optimism says a life of hope is a life worth living. Pessimism reminds me that it serves to protect me from too much disappointment and heart ache.

I spent my weekend working on the supplies drive for the evacuees that I am coordinating. It feels good to do something that will help someone. To get outside myself is exactly what I need now. But, my factory-second brain tells me that if I allow him to leave my thoughts even for a little while, I'll lose him.

People who have obsessive-compulsive disorder feel perpetually responsible. We know with as much certainty as we know anything that our rituals and thoughts protect the people we love. Logically, we understand our omnipotence is merely a hiccup in our brain chemistry, but down to the cells in our bodies, we also KNOW that we must continue to perform or someone will pay.

Without question, I am positive that even at this moment, somewhere there are scores of obsessive-compulsives that are certain Hurricane Katrina was their fault. They should have prayed correctly or they shouldn't have touched a door knob with their left hand or looked too long at a "bad" number. I'm sure that sounds unbelievable to someone who doesn't have the disorder, but it's absolutely the truth.

So with my friend, I am pulled toward that feeling of responsibility. Logically I know my thoughts cannot make him well, but with my brain whispering again and again, "What if you're wrong? Do you really want to risk it?" I am afraid to spend more than a few minutes without a thought of him. I so much want him to be healthy and happy and a part of my life again. My OCD is at full tilt these last weeks.

I've "what if'd" how it would be if he and my husband met. Would they like each other? Would they be friends? I have a hard time believing they would. The two men couldn't be more different. At least, the man I knew him to be years ago anyway. Sadly, I don't know who he truly is now. I hate that so much. I wish I did. I wish I knew everything about him now. Is he a Republican or a Democrat? Does he still listen to the only kind of music I hate? I heard that he is Wiccan now. It makes sense to me that he would be. He was always his own person and was never satisfied with anything just because someone told him he should be.

I have to stay busy today. I will clean and do laundry and as much physical activity as I can muster. My son celebrates the day at the lake with his father and Mr. Man sleeps the day away as he worked last night. I feel lonely and already today, I'm fighting tears. I have to push that down and accomplish something today.

I wonder if I'll ever feel like writing something funny again. At the moment, I just don't see it. I've always appreciated the people who read my blog and send me email, but I knew for sure if I stopped being funny, the emails would stop. I'm amazed that so many of you have sent notes to me with words of comfort and encouragement. You can't know how much I appreciate them.




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