Call Me Crazy

by Quinn Loftis

  I nodded. “For days I had begun to feel agitated over nothing. I just felt like at any moment I was going to explode, a ticking time bomb. Little things would cause me to react so irrationally. That morning I hadn’t been able to find my keys and I had yelled at my mom and thrown my book bag at the front door. In my mind I was asking myself what the hell is wrong with me, but I couldn’t stop.”

  My breathing increases as I talk about that day and I begin to remember exactly how it felt to be so out of control. “I remember thinking that I must seem so crazy to my parents and they kept asking me to calm down, but I couldn’t.”

  “It’s hard to believe because you can’t see your brain, but that reaction is entirely chemical,” Dr. Stacey responds. “Our emotions and moods are affected by different levels of certain chemicals in the brain. Let’s look at someone with diabetes, for example. They have a lack of insulin in their body that helps control their sugar levels. When the insulin is depleted, their body reacts negatively, becoming ‘out of whack’ if you will. If they don’t know what is happening, there is nothing they can do about it. The same is true of bipolar disorder. You have low levels of chemicals, and sometimes excessive amounts of chemicals, in your brain that make you ‘all out of whack,’ for lack of a better term. Up until now you didn’t know it, so of course you didn’t know what was going on, but now we know, and knowledge is half the battle.”

  “So I’ve been told, G.I. Joe,” I mutter as I think back to Candy’s words. Dr. Stacey smiles at me, she’s become accustomed to my little quips and to my surprise she just rolls with them.

  “My point is, now that we know what is going on, we can work to help you deal with the times that you begin to feel out of control.”

  I nod. “Okay, I can do that.” I glance away as I try to form the words that I want to say, the fears that I want to express but have been too scared to give them names.

  “What if I can’t get better? What if I have to stay here forever?” I know she sees the panic inside of me and though I try to stop it, I feel a tear slip down my cheek.

  Dr. Stacey hands me a tissue from the box sitting on the coffee table.

  “That’s a perfectly normal fear, Tally. You don’t have to be ashamed to voice it.”

  I let out a snort as I wipe my eyes. “I swear you can read minds.”

  She chuckles. “No, but I’m very adept at reading facial expressions and body language. In fact, they usually reveal much more than a person’s words.”

  She doesn’t say anything else, just lets me collect myself. It’s one of the things I really like about her. She never tries to force conversation and she is completely comfortable with sitting in silence until I am ready to speak. She never shifts nervously or makes unnecessary movements; she is completely comfortable in her own skin. I wonder if I will ever be comfortable just being who I am, will I ever stop wanting to be someone else? I clear my throat before trying to speak again.

  “So do you think that I will get better?”

  “Bipolar is not a disease like cancer that can be cured. It can be managed and you will have times in your life where you will function completely normally, and then you will have times in your life that will be a little harder. But you don’t ever have to get that far out of control again because you know what is going on now. When you start to sense that familiar feeling of not being able to keep it together you will just let me know and we will see if we need to adjust your medicine or if maybe just therapy will be enough.”

  I frown at her. “So I will have this for the rest of my life?”

  She nods at me but doesn’t look worried.

  “Why?”

  “It’s just the way your body is. It sucks, I know that, but it isn’t the end of the world. You can and will live a normal healthy life.”

  I wish I felt as confident as she sounds but deep inside I really wonder if I can ever be the way I was before I lost it. She smiles at me reassuringly.

  “When it’s time for you to go home you won’t be on your own. You will still have counseling sessions with me weekly, okay?”

  I nod and try to return her smile.

  “Is there anything else you want to talk about before we call it a day?” She asks and my mind immediately jumps to the guy whose name I had discovered through less than honorable channels. I look at Dr. Stacey’s expectant face. Finally I let out a groan.

  “The new patient that came in today,” I pause.

  “Yes?”

  “She had a visitor…,” I’m not really sure what I should say now that I’ve started. I feel silly for even bringing it up, but the dam has been breached so there was no stopping the water now. “He looked about my age and something about him was…compelling.” I don’t really know if that was the best way to describe my attraction to him, but it was as descriptive as I was going to get with Dr. Stacey.

  “I saw him, and if by compelling you mean good looking, then yes he is.” A frown creases her brow as she studies me. “Have you spoken to any of your friends from school since you came here Tally?”

  I look down at my hands as I grit my teeth against the immediate pain her question stirs inside. “Just Natalie.” Dr. Stacey and I have discussed Natalie many times. She is my best friend and quite possibly the only reason that I didn’t kill my history teacher. Since that day I had become the pariah of the high school. I’m that girl. I would like to say that I don’t care, but that would be a lie and I’m tired of lying to myself.

  “I see,” she answers. “Well, maybe the next time your mysterious visitor comes you could show him around.”

  My head snaps up. It wasn’t like Dr. Stacey to encourage patients to interact with other people’s family members.

  She smiles at me. “It would do you good to have a friend who doesn’t hear voices but can still relate to you.”

  I can’t help but laugh. It was true that, aside from Natalie and my parents, the only friends I had were here in the hospital. But even as I laugh at her words I know that I will never tell Trey that I’m a patient at Mercy. I don’t know what I will tell him if I even speak to him, but I don’t ever want to see the look in his eyes that others give me, those who know that I’m not normal.

  “Okay,” Dr. Stacey stands up. “That should do if for today.”

  I stand up too and toss my tissue in the trash next to the love seat. As I head for the door I hear her clear her throat. “Um Tally,”

  I turn to look at her as I grab the door knob. “Yes?”

  “Let’s try to make group tomorrow, okay?” She is smiling when she asks me but I can see the reprimand in her eyes.

  I grinned at her as I opened the door. “You got it boss.” I salute her and watch as she rolls her eyes, and I imagine she is remembering that it was how I had originally responded to her, but now I did it out of playfulness rather than as a coping mechanism.

  ~

  I hear a knock at my door as I’m lying on my bed, staring up at the cracked ceiling. I’m practicing being still, something that is very difficult for me. Dr. Stacey says that it’s because being still causes me to have to deal with the emotions that are difficult. My response—“why the hell would I want to deal with emotions that are difficult?” Granted, I was having a bad day.

  “Come in,” I say loud enough for whoever is on the other side to hear.

  I see Natalie with her long chocolate brown hair and big brown eyes, poke her head around the door and give me one of her beaming smiles.

  “What’s up, my crazy little chickadee?”

  I grin back at her. She is the only person outside of these walls that I will allow to call me crazy because I know she doesn’t really think it.

  “I’m doing homework,” I tell her.

  She raises a single brow at me. “Err okay, and exactly what is the homework?”

  “I’m supposed to be ignoring the people in the room,” I glance at her from the corner of my eye and then look back up at the ceiling, “You know, the ones you can’t see.”
>
  I try not to laugh, knowing that Natalie will try not to act weird about my admission, but it’s just too fun to tease her.

  “Right,” she finally says.

  I swing my legs over the side of the bed pulling myself up from my reclined position.

  “I’m kidding Nat; I don’t see people that aren’t there.”

  She laughs nervously. “I knew that.”

  “I see dead people, but that’s a whole ‘nother bag of worms.”

  Her face pales and I let out a bark of laughter.

  “Dammit, Tally,” she growls at me once she realizes I’m teasing her again.

  “I’m sorry,” I hold up my hands as my laughter dies down, “really I’m sorry, it’s just that sometimes I have to joke about it or I just might freak out again.”

  She walks over to my bed and climbs up, leaning back against the wall.

  “I know,” she tells me simply.

  “So how goes it on the outside?” I ask turning to face her.

  She shrugs. “It’s boring. I never thought I’d be ready for summer to be over, but if it means you will be set free then I’m all for it.”

  I smile at her. I know exactly what she means; only I’m not ready for school, but I’m ready to be free―I think.

  “What’s been going on in whacked-ville?” She asks playfully.

  I realize that for the first time in a long time I’m actually excited to talk to her about something normal―a guy.

  “Well, actually something interesting did happen today.” I can’t hold back the stupid grin that is pasted across my face.

  “Please don’t tell me that somebody took off after a nurse with a syringe thinking they were an alien who wanted to probe them.”

  I roll my eyes. “That has only happened a couple of times, and if you had seen the room they were putting the patient in you would have understood her reaction.”

  Nat shakes her head and lets out a puff of air. “Okay, if it isn’t one of the crazies then what’s up?”

  “We have a new patient and her son came to visit her today, and let’s just say he was easy on the eyes.”

  Nat grins and lowers her eyebrows, rubbing her hands together greedily. “Yummy, guy gossip and in the nuthouse no less. What did he look like?”

  “He is Native American.”

  “Ooo, so yummy, tan skin, silky black hair?”

  “Are you going to let me tell this or do you just want to enjoy your own imagination?” I interrupt her verbal drooling.

  “Fine, geez, get on with it.”

  “Yes to the tan skin and black hair, but that wasn’t all. He is just incredible. He is tall, several inches over six feet, broad shoulders, muscular arms and chest and he just had a presence about him.”

  “A presence, okay, got it, mm hmm,” her eyes are closed and she’s nodding her head, savoring every detail. Nat has always been a boy lover, and her taste is wide and varied.

  “Okay Nat, bring it down a notch. The last thing I need is you walking out of here putting off major pheromones. One of the manic old dudes might chase after you, they pick up on that stuff; it’s creepy as hell.”

  “Eww, could we please refrain from using terms like pheromones and old dudes in the same sentence?” She cringes.

  “Good point,” I admit.

  “So did you talk to him?”

  I shake my head. “Uh, I sort of hid from him.”

  “What?” She asks with wide eyes.

  “I panicked. It’s been a while since I’ve been around a, okay well actually I’ve never been around a guy as attractive as him before. Plus there was this weird vibe I got from him.”

  “Vibe? What vibe, you didn’t mention a vibe.”

  “Down girl,” I chide. “Let me get there. So when he walked into the rec room I honed in on him like a beacon and I swear it took everything in me not to walk over to him and…,” I shudder. “Gah, this is so irrational.”

  Nat snorts out a laugh. “Did you seriously just say irrational, you?”

  “Shut your pie whole,” I snap.

  “Dude, if the shoe fits.”

  “The point is,” I continue, “it was weird and I wanted to cuddle with…,” I trail off, shuddering. I never want to cuddle―with anyone, let alone a perfect stranger.

  “Man this is awesome!” Nat throws her fist in the air like a victorious champion. “How romantic would it be to tell your children one day that you met their father in the crazy house?”

  “What is with you and Candy dreaming about me procreating with someone I haven’t even spoken to?”

  “It could happen,” she shrugs.

  “Whatev,” I tell her using our favorite blow off term.

  “So you going to talk to him the next time he comes in?”

  “Doc thinks I should,” I hesitate, “but if I do I’m not about to tell him I’m a patient here. I’ll have to make up something. Maybe I’ll tell him Candy is my crazy great aunt or something.”

  She nods. “Mm hmm, I could totally see that working.” Nat scoots to the edge of the bed and pushes herself up onto her feet. “So you’ll keep me updated?”

  I roll my eyes. “Definitely, I wouldn’t let you miss one episode of The Young and the Bat–shit Crazy.”

  She hugs me as she laughs at my lame joke. She’s the only one I let hug me besides my parents. When I say I don’t like to be touched it’s an understatement. Dr. Stacey says it isn’t uncommon for someone with mental health issues to have personal space issues. “Great,” I had told her, “one more thing to add to my utter weirdness.”

  “See ya later, k?” Nat waves as she heads out of my room.

  I hear the scuffling out in the hall and I know it’s time for night time meds. I let out a huff of air.

  “Only a month left,” I tell myself as I make my way into the hall to join the others and get my nighttime happy pills.

  Chapter 4

  “Smile for me and I will know that my life has meaning. Smile for me and I will see that all is not lost. When you smile for me, I am complete; I am found.”

  ~Unknown.

  Trey

  I open the door to MPF and I’m hit with a refreshing blast of cool air. It’s a nice break from the summer heat pulsing at my back.

  I walk over to the Information Desk and sign in; just as I had the first time I visited. Mildred is once again planted in the chair on the other side of the desk and she smiles up at me.

  “Hello dear; she’s in the rec room.”

  “Thank you,” I tell her.

  It’s been three days since I came to visit her for the first time. My grandmother has visited every day this week and it makes me feel like a jerk for not coming with her. I had somewhat of a good reason; I had been looking for a job. Though my grandmother gets some government help, it’s not enough to take care of everything, so it falls to me to pick up the slack. After searching through the classifieds, I came across an ad for a ranch hand. The job is located a few minutes out of town, but it is hard physical labor, just what I need to keep my mind off of things.

  Just as I’m rounding the corner to head towards the rec room, I’m jolted back as a small body crashes into mine. I look down and see a head full of pink streaked hair. I put my hands on her shoulders to steady her and I’m surprised to feel how petite she is.

  “Crap, I’m so sorry, I wasn’t look…,” She looks up at me after straightening her shirt and her words freeze in her throat. I’m frozen where I stand as well. My eyes land on the most expressive face I have ever seen. Her eyes are wide and sparkle with surprise, and her dainty nose fits perfectly with her small bone structure and high cheeks. Her generous lips are spread just enough that I can see the straight, white teeth behind them.

  To cover my reaction to her, I let out a chuckle. “Are you alright?”

  The sound seems to catch her attention and she frowns at me. I’m struck by how utterly adorable it is and feel my pulse speed up.

  “Are you laughing at me?” She asks ind
ignantly.

  “Well, you did kind of look a little shocked.”

  “I wasn’t expecting to walk into a moving mountain, so I think shocked is an acceptable response.” She folds her arms across her chest and lifts her chin defiantly. Her adorableness goes up another notch.

  I don’t realize that I’m still grinning at her until she points it out.

  “You can wipe that grin off your face at any time.”

  I rub my hand across my chin in an attempt to straighten out the smile. Judging by the single eyebrow raised at me, I haven’t fooled her.

  “I’m Trey,” I finally say and hold out my hand to her. She looks at my hand and then back up at me. For a brief minute I think she isn’t going to take it, but then she slips her small hand into mine. Her skin is so soft and warm that I find I don’t want to release her.

  “I’m Tally.”

  The name totally fits her. Cute, and to the point, and I like it. I really don’t want to embarrass her any more, but at the same time I find that I really like seeing her with her feathers ruffled, so I give into my curiosity.

  “Was that you I saw the other day ducking under a table?” I watch as her face slowly blooms a lovely shade of red.

  “I, it was, there was…,” she stumbles over her words.

  I can see the wheels turning in her mind as she tries to come up with an excuse and to my surprise she suddenly clamps her mouth closed.

  I chuckle. “It’s okay, Tally. I think we all have moments when it’s just necessary to look for nothing in particular under a table.”

  She grins at me and quickly looks down at her feet. I’m struggling for what to say next because I’m not ready for her to walk away just yet. She beats me to it.

  “I’m not really sure what the protocol is for talking to someone in a mental health hospital without it becoming more awkward.”

  I watch as she nervously shuffles her feet and I have to cram my hands into my front pockets to keep from reaching out and lifting her chin so that I can see her eyes again. I noticed the first time she looked up at me that they were a striking blue–grey color, like the color of the clouds as they darken for a coming storm. I find myself wondering if her eyes, like storm clouds, become darker and more turbulent with strong emotions.