CHAPTER 15

Emptiness

No follow-up discussion of the Thanksgiving incident occurred. Even Amy lacked the courage to bring up the subject when I arrived at her house early for babysitting duty the following weekend. I preferred to ignore the subject. Talking about it equated to reliving it. No one complained when Justin announced that he would remain in California for Christmas. Without him at the table, it would be much easier to erase the toast from the collective family memory.

Final exams fell between Thanksgiving and Christmas. I couldn't pull myself away from the books and skipped two therapy appointments with Karen. The overwhelming amount of homework reduced my life to eat, sleep, class, and study.

I promised Karen I would show up for my first appointment of the New Year. Actually, I couldn't wait to tell her about my stable mood. Today, I trotted down the flight of steps leading to her basement office. When I entered the waiting area, it tickled me to see that the magazine selection was updated. Good bye Car & Driver, hello Ladies Home Journal. I hit the buzzer, sat down, and started leafing through one of the outdated copies.

I heard the click of the doorknob before I saw the door open. "Hi, Maggie. Come on in."

Quickly, we settled into our regular spots. Karen skipped the pleasantries and got to the point. "So tell me, are the drugs still working?"

"Yes, Karen, the lights are still shining. The change inside of my head is incredible. It is pure joy, and I'm proud to say my mood has remained the same since before Thanksgiving."

She glowed with happiness. "Another patient once described the drug hitting as a switch in the brain flicked from the 'off' position to the 'on' position. As I understand it when that drug hits, the world brightens,"

"Brightened is a gross understatement," I said.

"Are you experiencing any side effects?" She asked.

"Other than caffeine bothering me, none. I've switched to decaf."

"How's the noisy brain?"

"Karen, to me, quieting the brain was a term my yoga instructor used as a polite replacement for the words she really wanted to say, 'Class, shut up.' Now I understand she said it because she meant it. People do have the ability to control their thoughts. Before this medication, my brain acted like a turbo-charged, six-slice toaster. Instead of whole-wheat or rye bread popping out of the slots, mine popped out random thoughts, all at the same time. I never really focused on one idea at a time."

"That bad?" she asked.

Uncrossing my legs and leaning forward, I replied, "Absolutely. During my classes, it amazed me how other people managed to take such detailed notes during lectures. Now I understand. Their sole focus was the professor's words. Try comprehending a lecture, taking notes, and listening to an IPod simultaneously. The IPod in my brain generated a constant something. Call it vibes, energy or noise, whatever. I just know my brain never shut off."

"How's your note taking now?"

I smiled and gave her the thumbs up. "But I'm not going to lie to you. Part of this change pisses me off. If this is how normal people feel every day, I want a redo of high school and college. Hell, I want a redo of my life. With a head like this, I would have graduated with a 4.00 GPA. I worked three times harder than everyone else to concentrate and comprehend the information."

"Are you complaining, Maggie?"

"No," I said, shaking my head.

We sat in silence for a few seconds, smiling. For Karen, I think it was a smile of pride. After all, she figured out that something more than depression was going on in my head. I hoped my smile radiated gratitude.

Finally, she broke the silence. "Now I guess it's time to discuss the reason that brought you to my office in the first place. How does Sam fit into this new way of thinking?"

"I ran into him at the supermarket in Ellwood on Thanksgiving day. My cousin, Justin and I were looking at the flowers, and he walked up behind us. He caught me so off guard. When I turned to look at him, his beautiful eyes took my breath away. The few minutes we spoke were friendly, but awkward. Justin's presence made the air even more uncomfortable. It was the first time I'd seen him since he arrived at Julie's party with that girl."

"Do you plan on explaining the diagnosis and the medication to him?" she asked.

Running my fingers through my hair and gazing at the framed diplomas decorating the wall, I mulled the question for a few seconds. "I don't know what I am going to do. I want to call him or e-mail, but I am afraid of his reaction to my diagnosis. Sam likes things simple. Anything complicated throws him off balance. He plans everything and makes extensive detailed lists. In the beginning, I think my last-minute decisions and spur-of-the-moment activities charmed him. Like the morning, I pulled him from bed at 8:00 a.m. on a Saturday, tossed a pair of shorts and a T-shirt at him, and told him to 'get dressed.'

"I cooked a huge breakfast of eggs, bacon, pancakes, and forced him to eat. He balked when I pushed him out of the door and into the passenger side of my car. I refused to answer any of his questions until we pulled into the Kennywood parking lot. 'An amusement park--why?' he asked, and appeared to be very uncomfortable.

"'Hurry,' I kept repeating, towing him by the arm in the direction of the gate. 'We have to be in first, or we'll fail.' The 'fail' part put him over the edge. He stopped moving and planted his legs. 'Fail at what? What's going on, Maggie?' he demanded.

"He sneered, a bad sign. His locked knees indicated he wasn't moving until I explained what was going on.

"I tugged at his arm, hoping to get him to budge, as I outlined the plan for the day. 'Sam, we're going to ride nothing but the Steel Phantom all day, hopefully, setting the record for the most rides in one day. That's the reason for the big breakfast and comfortable clothes. We won't have time to stop and eat.'"

Karen sat in her chair smiling. "Sounds like fun to me. Except for the big breakfast part combined with a roller coaster."

"Sam's stomach was like a vault, once something got inside, very difficult to get out," I said, before continuing the story. "At that point, we were standing at the gate, and I didn't know if he would be upset with the idea or willing to go along with it. Gaging his reaction was never easy, but he started laughing and kissed me. 'Run,' he said, 'or we'll have to wait in line.'

"We were the first people into the park and the first in line for the Phantom. We acted like little kids, and at the end of the day, the man behind the counter at Park Services told us that there wasn't a record for most Phantom rides. We didn't care, and declared ourselves the record holders.

"I realize, now, I was hypomanic that day. If I explained to him, my good days were actually bad days, I don't think he would understand. My heart couldn't survive another rejection from him."

She gave me a quizzical look. "Do you really believe that his reaction will be to reject you?"

I shrugged.

That question ended our session, but my mind struggled all day to find an answer to it. One minute, I imagined a sappy open-armed reunion on Fifth Avenue. A moment later, the vision switched to an empty street and Sam walking away after hearing the word Bipolar. I decided to do nothing for a while.

I moved through the cold, ice, snow, and sleet of January and February without discomfort. Beyond going to class, I hibernated. The last semester of school came packed with work. My human interactions consisted of hanging out with Tom and Aggie between classes and periodically eating lunch with them. Mrs. Livingston maintained our scheduled weekly gin rummy game, reminding me that my brain deserved some down time--a few of my professors would have enjoyed arguing that idea. She informed me that she planned on showing up every week until I found a new boyfriend.

Occasionally, I'd drop in on Mark and Amy to play with Kelsey and eat a good meal. The two of them collaborated to make sure mental illness never became a topic of conversation. Mark teased me about failing the bar exam, and Amy nagged me to find a new boyfriend.

The world continued to look bright through the eyes of my new medication. At each appointment, Dr. Graham emphasized that to consider the drug to be effective, I had to remain symptom-free for one year. I was grateful for each symptom-free day.

***

Darkness arrived early during the Pittsburgh winter months and with the darkness came loneliness. On weekdays, I distracted myself with class, homework, and housekeeping. Saturday nights became the enemy. My heart ached for Sam. On weekends, the sound of happy, drunken, college kids staggering back to their dorm rooms drifted through my windows, and loving couples walked under my balcony, bundled in hats and gloves and snuggled tightly together.

On a Saturday night in late February, I wrapped up in a blanket and stood on my balcony, watching the snow silently fall to the street. A glorious night. Snowflakes sparkled like diamonds in the moonlight, and the streetlights cast the air in a soft orange glow. A Hallmark night, perfect for walking arm-in-arm and making snow angels. Inspired by the scene, I typed a long love e-mail to Sam. I explained how empty the apartment felt without him and told him that his side of the closet was empty and ready for him if he came home. I apologized for being bipolar and ruining our engagement. Crying as my fingers stroked the keyboard, I wrote about the medicine and how it quieted my brain. It felt good typing the words, I haven't had an episode since before Thanksgiving. My final sentence was an invitation to dinner. As I typed the words, Love, Maggie at the bottom, I heard Justin's voice. 'Defective.' My pinky finger slid over the keyboard and hit the delete button.