After over a year and a half of saving dollar bills here and there the time had come: Tailored Suit time. So I counted up my dough and headed to New York. I had a particular company in mind called Bindle and Keep. The idea was to have the suit ready for my CD release party. The week and a half leading up to the CD release was crazy for me:
1. Talent Show for my students 2. KPBS interview 3. KUSI morning show
4. Sold out Poway performing arts center show 5. Two rehearsals for different shows
6. Keynote Speech for women working in prevention for teens 7. Choir practice for cd release
8. Part of a mental health panel for people with mental illness in need of jobs
Needless to say....it was a lot. By the middle I had found I felt completely locked up. I felt paralyzed. If I had only been able to see from the outside things would have been different. It all came to a head and I spent a day in depression. I couldn't stop crying. Hard. On that day I got a package in the mail. It was my suit. And nothing was going to make this day better. Not on my watch. I tried it on and this is what my brain did.
"This looks like shit! The material is cheap! I can't believe I wasted this money!!"
I sent more than one email demanding a refund. Telling Bindle and Keep what a terrible job they did with such cheap material.
That night was the talent show for my kids. I had to lock it up for them. I was nervous for them. But they all rose to the occasion. They all did an outstanding job and I was able to stay present and really soak it all in. As I drove home I left the cloud I'd been carrying around with me behind.
I tried the suit on again. I saw it with the same eyes but in a better mindset. I loved it. I sent an email apologizing to Bindle and Keep.
They called the next day not realizing I had apologized. When I told him I sent another email he said, "Another one?"
I explained to him that I had been under a lot of stress and also told him I had Bipolar 1. But at the end of the day, was I just being a dick? Did this have anything to do with my mental illness? Sure, people do cruddy things when they feel anxious but was I giving myself an out?
Am I able to separate myself from Bipolar 1?
I got off the phone feeling like I had lied. But one thing I do know is true: This isn't the person I am. The person I am is loving. The person I am is kind and considerate. But when chemicals and hormones come knocking on the door I feel like I have no choice but to let them in.
And I rocked that suit at the CD release party.