Blog: Eagles Nest by Jessie Close

Today I drove up the mountain to see a couple of friends of mine.  They live so high up that it’s amazing we don’t need to bring oxygen.  I have seen eagles drifting in the air currents below their home. The whole valley is filled with smoke from nearby fires right now and the distant mountains are barely visible.  But, nonetheless, looking down into the valley from up there is breathtaking.  I’m a lowlander and live right next to a creek, and I like it that way, but it’s always an adventure to drive up the winding road to Pidge and Peg’s place.

I went up there to help Pidge put a flyer together for an auction he’s holding in two weeks.  We ended up laughing and talking about old times when my daughter was little.  They still have a Princess Crown that belonged to Mattie on top of their fridge.  The list we organized on my laptop went on and on; a lot of stuff.  And it’s going to be a fun auction with Pidge’s brother as auctioneer.

I’m writing about my morning because I wanted to write about friends.  I’m fortunate to have friends who accept me as I am, who have seen me at my worst, who know I use psychiatric medication and are happy for my stability.  Being open with them about bipolar disorder gives them the opening they might need to talk about themselves.  I am ever so grateful to friends like the ones I have.

When you get to be my age it’s not surprising that some friendships date back 50 years.  Actually, that sounds pretty ridiculous to me.  I still feel 18!  Where did the time go?  I would have to say that the time went into family and friends.  We don’t just sit still as time passes; we interact with all the people in our lives.  I have let some friends go, others have let me go, and many have been lost to moves.  Some are there when you need them, others are not.  Not keeping score is important.

I have had friends flee when I was manic and I always think I have no friends when I’m depressed.  Another twist to depression is even if friends are there I don’t want to see them.  Then I think I have no friends.  Twisted.

I remember when one of my medications turned on me and I ended up in the hospital.  I remember vividly that my room was filled with people and flowers but I felt completely alone in my grief.  This medication allowed me to function better than other medications I have tried, but then I had to go off it or die.  I wanted to die.  It didn’t matter how many people were telling me they loved me, I simply wanted to no longer exist.  I had to travel back to the psychiatric hospital where I had been put on this medication so they could keep me under wraps while I tried another.  This is the part of mental illness that sucks, right?
Once I was stable again I was able to appreciate how my friends and family supported me when I was in the clutches of despair and suicidal ideation.  The road back was difficult but I got there.

The wind has picked up; this won’t help the fires that are burning in Idaho, Wyoming and Montana.  Even with the wind I don’t see the smoke blowing away.  The eagles up near Pidge and Peg’s will have wild rides on this wind.  I like to know that such good friends are perched up there, in view of our whole valley.  I am blessed.