On Friends - Vol. II

20 & dumb.

This is the second in a series of anecdotal posts about my friends and how they’ve helped me through some real rough stuff. My friends probably won’t remember much of these events, and even though my memory is generally shit, these events have stuck with me. Don’t miss Volume I.

Throughout my life, I’ve put my health at serious risk. I have epilepsy and take antiepileptic drugs (AEDs). I was diagnosed when I was 11 and cycled through a few different medications, and thanks to my fabulous physicians, found Lamictal. Like many AEDs, its efficacy is reliant on timed doses. After years without seizures, I had breakthroughs at college, in my 20s, and after I got engaged. Each time was my own fault.

When it happened at college, I was 20. It was nearly the end of the year and we had been partying for days with very little sleep and far too many substances. I was a very good student and went to a very good college, known for its academics… and also its party scene. I cycled through a few different friend groups before finding four girls I really clicked with. After that, we were inseparable.

I was dating an older guy I had met the year before, and he lived below these girls, which is how we found each other. Admittedly, I was worried at first. They were all pretty and skinny and in actuality, saw my boyfriend more than I did. I’ve never considered myself naive; this was college, people partied, got drunk, things happened. But the only thing that ever happened was we all became great friends and formed beautiful bonds that last to this day. (except my ex, who turned out to be totally crazy obsessive, psycho bunny batshit insane)

I was on the balcony of my friend H’s house with the boyfriend and blacked out. I woke up in H’s bed with his arm around me and her sitting in her desk chair looking very concerned. Not angry, not upset, not still partying – sitting right there with me making sure I got put back together, like a glass figurine that had shattered. They had carried me inside from the balcony. Had they not been there when it happened, I could have fallen down two flights of stairs. I felt guilty for scaring them and embarrassed they witnessed it. But I felt especially mad at myself. I knew the potential repercussions of not adhering to my medication schedule. I had put myself in a dangerous position and was just extremely fortunate to have H – who insisted on having sleepovers for a few days to make sure I was ok. She is a wonderful friend who made me and my wellbeing her priority when I wouldn’t do it myself.