This week’s guest blogger is Sheri from the Reality Hide and Seek blog, who is writing about those moments when you just have to laugh..
I’ve been on the bipolar roller coaster for most of my 54 years. I wasn’t diagnosed until I was around 40, but in retrospect I can see how it started at a very young age. Often, when I look back over my life, my manic episodes are not funny and mostly things of which I’m ashamed. I rarely get that “fun” and productive mania that some people get. My manic episodes are often marked by agitation and anger, as well as making very bad choices. I’ve finally quite stable and hopefully will stay that way. There’s one particular episode that I’m not very proud of (the start is a bit juvenile on my part), but when I’ve retold it, I and whomever I’m telling it to end up laughing hysterically. I’m hoping you’ll find it humorous as well, and I also hope it doesn’t lose something in the writing of it instead of my telling of it in person with theatrics.
About four years ago, my daughter and I went to the movies in one of those theaters with stadium seating, the big cushy seats that rock back and the rows are raised, not one directly behind the other. There were a couple of young women in front of us of who seemed to be the kind who are sort of a “rough” element. The one in front of me would not stop texting, and I was getting rather annoyed. I leaned forward and politely asked her to refrain from texting during the movie, and she spun around and said something nasty (I can’t remember what, my mind immediately clicked over into agitated mania mode). I leaned forward once again, and unfortunately just happened to put my hand on the back of her chair right about where her ponytail met her head. I may have “accidentally” yanked on her ponytail. She leapt up, spun around and started screaming at me, at which point my 6’ tall daughter also leapt up and started yelling back “you can’t talk to my mom that way.” I shoved her back into her chair because I didn’t want her involved, and sincerely apologized to the understandably angry young woman. She and her also-yelling friend stormed out of the theater.
The next thing I see is her standing off to the side with what I assumed to be the manager, pointing at me and wildly gesticulating (the girl, not the manager). They left, and I told my daughter not to move from her seat while I went to straighten things out. I walked out to the lobby to find that a couple of policemen had joined the party. When one approached me, I started shaking and crying (I cry when I’m angry or upset). He said I was accused of attacking the poor young woman, and I explained that I had merely leaned forward to ask her to stop texting and may have inadvertently got her ponytail caught in my hand when I placed it on the back of her chair. I said “Look at me, I’m a 50 yr old woman, do I look like someone who’d start a fight with a young girl?” (I’m 5’6”, and at the time probably weighed around 135. The young woman in question was considerably heftier.)
He then said, “Would you like to sit down? Can I get you some water? I can see how that might have happened.” I sat down on a bench; he went to the concession stand and brought me a glass of water. After a little more discussion, he went back over to talk to the manager and the young women. The young women left rather in a huff, and the manager started to walk over. At that point I saw my daughter coming toward me and I think (I can’t remember for sure) that I either motioned for her to not come closer or to keep her mouth shut. The manager then apologized for the disruption in my movie-going experience and gave me two free passes for another time! By that point my crying had stopped, but I was still shaking…from trying to hold in the laughter.
Reality Hide and Seek
If you have an amusing or irreverant something to share on mental health, psychology, philosophy or therapeutic subjects and would like to be featured on the Wednesday Guest Blogger spot then drop me a line at woundedgenius[at]gmailc[dot]com.