Dad got free tickets to the Red Sox game tonight! His boss gives away tickets all the time, and since I don't have a job anymore, the whole family was able to go!
I hadn't been feeling well the last few days, so I did everything I cold think of to feel good for tonight. I slept in so wouldn't be too tired tonight, thought better about the X-rated alone time I wanted this morning (pressure sometimes aggravates my UC) ate bland food, no snacks and stayed in the living room all afternoon. I probably shouldn't have been staring at my computer and the hot shower sometimes increases the vertigo, but I took a chance with both. And by 4:00PM I was dizzy and tired.
I had talked to my psych med doctor about upping my anxiety meds, and she agreed. When I told her I was tired, she suggested taking the pills at night. I've been taking them in the morning to get me through the day, so I didn't take them this morning.
I wasn't thinking when I made this change today of all days. So I took my increased dose of lexapro when I realized how dizzy I had become; the worst it's been in weeks. I held the walls going down the hall and slowly made my way to the car. The ride wasn't so bad, until we got to the Braintree T Station.
I gave Dad the wrong directions so we ended up having to pay $7 for parking when we could've parked for free with Mom's handicap card through a different entrance. She wouldn't let it go. I started getting a headache. The night was starting off great.
The train ride was hell. I tend to avoid crowds unless absolutely necessary and I do not like baseball enough for the throngs of people to be worth the stress of getting there. The train was packed and noisy and I was having a hard time being in the middle of it all. Whenever the train stopped, I felt like I was still moving. And watching the world pass by sideways was not helping.
I spent a month on the road driving cross-country. I navigated the metro system in Barcelona. I hiked Mt. Vesuvius. And the Hollywood Hills. I've travelled the world all on my own and now I can barely work up the nerve to leave my damn house! I made travel plans this year. Not out of state, but farther than my front door. How am I supposed to enjoy anything with this crippling agoraphobia!?
Walking the underground from the red line to the green line in stifling heat and crowds of spirited baseball fans took effort, as did the crowded train car. The claustrophobic walk to the street was so much worse, but the fresh air was a godsend! Mom brought her cane, so we strolled through the streets of Boston to Fenway Park. Oh, the crowds. I was miserable until we go to our seats.
We were six rows from the fence on the third base line. I've never been that close to the field before. It was pretty impressive.
I used to play softball, and I think one of the reasons I go to so few of these games is because I regret not following through with it in high school. I was diagnosed with UC just before freshman year and my entire life was turned up-side-down. I was too self-consious to try out for the team. Town leagues were a sign up thing. Everyone who signed up for a team was put on a team, no matter the skill. Try-outs were a competition and I didn't think I was good enough. Five years, countless trophies and MVP game balls all evidence of the contrary had nothing on my severe self-esteem issues.
I know the game. I loved to play; every position. I miss being the one out there on the field. I miss running the bases, swinging the bat and catching the ball. I miss the spring air with a light breeze in the early evening. I even miss the practices that keep the in shape before I gained 120lbs.
Whitman-Hanson Regional's last day of school is June 12. I know this because I planned to condition myself to run the outdoor track, to make that oval my bitch because it beat me so hard in high school. Now I think I'll run the bases, too. Just to see if I can, and work up to it again if I need to.
I was thinking about all of this when a group of people came down the stairs in our section, the usher forcing people out of their stolen seats. While everyone shuffled around, I heard someone call my name. I looked up and exchanged pleasantries while I tried to figure out who this person was. She looked familiar, but very different. I'm not sure I would've recognized her if we hadn't reconnected on Facebook. It was Katja. My best friend in 8th grade when I was obsessed with Good Charlotte and she was my shot at seeng them in Boston as well as Providence. We were inseparable after that, until things went side-ways.
Suicide. Anorexia. Bulimia. Cutting. Institution. Lesbianism. Bullying. Betrayal.
I actually think that was the beginning of my own downward spiral that took me years to recover from. Now, 15 years later, we both have UC, our mothers have MS, we share so many similar interests and life events; we were both at the game tonight with free tickets! We should've stayed friends, but life got in the way. It'd be nice to reconnect and rediscover that friendship now that we're both older and I'd like to think wiser than our 13-year-old emo selves.
The seats behind her were unoccupied for most of the game, so I went to chat for a while. She moved to Pembroke and went to high school there. I completely forgot about her little sister, who is now a senior in high school. Her brother is Mike's age and about to have a second kid. I can't imagine my own brother in a similar situation. I think she was there with her girlfriend, I didn't ask too many questions since it doesn't really matter.
Honestly, if Katja had told me about her crush on me back in the day, things might've gone in a completely different direction. I was very impressionable and really up for anything. People already thought we were together, why not? I don't think I'd ever bene closer to anyone in my life at that point and she made me feel things...I'd rather not feel ever again. Hurt. Helpless. Betrayed. Confused.
It could've been so different...or much, much worse.
We were stupid kids trying to figure out life and failing miserably. She seems to be doing really well now, and I've made strides in my own life. The past is the past, and all is forgive. I have my yearbook around here somewhere, I was surprised she wanted to write anything on the last day of school. I forget what she said leading up to it, something about the hard year e'd had, but I remember the last line: "I love you. Call me, okay?"
I was too consumed with my own issues that I never did. But it meant so much to me that she had forgiven me. I was only trying to help.
She reached out to me on Facebook last year when I posted about my UC getting worse and we talked a little, commiserating and catching up. We never followed through with the idea of hanging out, but I wasn't doing so well at the time, chained to a toilet and all.
It was so great to see her tonight! I told her so, and that she looked good and even threw in a "Happy Birthday" when she brought up that it was next Tuesday. There was time I would've stayed in my seat, not just because it was assigned, but because I wouldn't have wanted to or been comfortable talking to her, especially in a seat that wasn't my own. I follow the rules. Rigidly. Until I realized it's alright to bend them a little.
I stayed and chatted for a while until the owners of the seats came back and before we left they were vacated again so I took the opportunity to say goodbye and snag quick photo.
Seeing Katja again really made my night. As we were walking back to the T station, Mom asked how the dizziness was. I hadn't even realized it had disappeared until just then. Maybe the anxiety meds worked. Maybe it was the fresh air. Or maybe it was seeing an old friend and actually having the guts to do something about it. I felt better tonight than I have in a long time, being with my family but away and doing something on my own with them there. I'm usually not so comfortable with them knowing my personal life, since they've always hated my friends.
Mom actually recognized her and was glad she looked so good herself. Dad didn't remember her at first, but later recalled she was the one who was mad at me because I told on her. We're good now. I told him so. I, unlike the rest of my family, can actually let things go. Not an easy feat with my parents opinions running my life.
The trip home was much more enjoyable. We had the green line train car all to ourselves! No longer dizzy, I was actually able to enjoy the ride. I love trains, and when I don't, something is very wrong. I had told Auntie Jo that we were going to the game tonight and she texted me, of all things! We talked for a while and I sent her pictures. Then posted those same pictures on Facebook, tagging everyone. I spent the red line scrolling and gauging my senses. Still good. I really hope it's the medication. I'm tired of being so disabled.
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