Somewhere Over the Rainbow, I've Lost My Damn Mind: A Manic's Mood Chart (31 page)

JP: What’s that? Is that your ringtone?

DT: Oh hey, dude; no, I can talk . . .

JP: Rude.

KEY TERMS:
HOT SHEETS, INTERNSHIP, SPORTS, CAREER

Submitted on 6/10/10

Red

June 8, 2010 (trippy manic flashback):

“
Alright guys, I’m going to take it easy on you because you’re all new and didn’t know what you were doing, but these hot sheets . . .”

--My boss at my internship

I began to lose focus and started drifting away in my mind. My ability to stay in the now was slowly fading, and I started to separate from space and time. My heart rate slowed down at first and then steadily rose and fell, despite my efforts to control it. My arms began to tingle . . .

“
Is this really happening now? Come on.”

I tried to center myself and make eye contact and take notes, but the efforts were useless. A mellow energy overtook me and my hands became numb. I was using all my strength to maintain control, but I knew it was coming unless I did something.

Back at my desk, I had difficulty stopping the tears and blamed it on my allergies. I knew this wasn’t going to work.

Present Day:

That’s life and it’s not fair

It is what it is

God works in mysterious ways

What does not kill me can only make me stronger

Everyone has problems

You can only play the hand you are dealt

I have been reciting these sayings over and over in my head for the past twenty-four hours or so to help myself deal with my latest BMD experience. I had to resign from my internship yesterday due to the feelings described in the above passage; my mania was coming back. I thought that if I entered into something that I loved, like sports, it would somehow counteract my mania and I’d be fine. Unfortunately, that is not the case, and now I’ve got to start from square one. Again.

I will be moving back to Ohio and more than likely The Nasty in August to try and figure out this BMD and how I can live with it. In a way, I’m actually looking forward to moving back because I never left out of spite or dislike but because I was chasing a dream. The dream of making it in the sports marketing industry, like the success I had found with AT&Tizzle before episode uno. That dream is gone now. I simply can’t do it.

I love The Nasty and the people there, and it’s home, but I am struggling with not being able to do things that once came easily to me. I thrived in the high-octane, fast-paced, high-stress sales environment of AT&Tizzle and thought if I only changed industries I’d be fine. That it was the telecommunications aspects of the previous job that had triggered my mania, and by following my passion in sports in the City of Wind I’d be fine. It’s difficult to accept that something at which I once succeeded, something I enjoyed, something I was building my life around is gone forever.

BMD has made me take a look at my life. I feel as though I have nothing to show for my hard work, dedication and persistence. This feeling has drained me of energy to the point where I sit and cry, trying to understand something that is beyond my comprehension . . .

Keep faith and keep fightin
g

Session

JP: This one could almost be categorized with your depressed moods as well, don’t you think?

DT: Yeah, without a doubt. That’s the thing with my mania: at times it can throw me from one extreme to the next rather quickly. Just another example of the spin.

KEY TERMS:
911, “ELEMENTS,” FANTASY, K. J. CHOI

Submitted on 6/29/10

Red

February 24 or so, 2008 (trippy manic flashback):

“
In case of an emergency, please locate the nearest exit of the San Jose airport; or if you are in need of assistance, the nearest airport personnel. The following items are restricted . . .”

My phone started to vibrate in my pocket, and I began to sense something was wrong.

Unknown number.

“
Hello?”

“
911, what’s your emergency?”

“
Uh, well, I’m sorry, but I don’t have an emergency. You called me.”

“
No, I’m sorry, sir, this call came to us. Is there anything you need assistance with at the airport?”

How did they know where I was? It must have been the surveillance cameras. This had to be a test of my nerves. I had been having trouble keeping my cool, and they must have seen me nervously pacing around.

“
No problems here, ma’am. I didn’t realize I had called you. My apologies.”

“
Well, you might have accidentally called us. Was your phone in your pocket?”

“
Yes, it was in my front jacket pocket.”

“
Sometimes that happens. Have a good day.”

“
Thanks.”

How did she know my phone was in my pocket? There was no way I accidentally called 911--my phone was locked. Why were they checking up on me? Did they think I couldn’t handle this?
They
chose
me
to complete this mission, not the other way around. Remember to keep composure; balance, dedication, awareness and passion . . .

Present Day:

I’m still unclear if the above series of events were real or hallucinated while I was visiting San Jose during episode uno. At this point, I was pretty confused about what was real and what were fantasies. I also thought I met K. J. Choi in the airport, so your guess is as good as mine.

I realize that I’ve been complaining about my life a lot lately. My apologies for being selfish and not filling you in on other aspects of my episodes.

For instance, the four “elements” I listed above--balance, dedication, awareness and passion--played significant roles in episode uno. They make up the 4 in .e4. I became obsessed with these “elements” of my life and spent hours (if not days, I really couldn’t tell you, I was pretty gone in the spin) writing them down in my gournal.

I was under the impression (though not too far off, I do believe) that the world (well, world = my life, one and the same during my episodes) was out of whack. That I was concentrating on the materials of my life rather than on what really mattered, like being dedicated to my passions while having balance throughout all aspects of my life, to bring me to awareness of everything around me. Looking back, maybe these elements really aren’t so far off from reality; I just had to go crazy to realize that.

TBC . . .

Session

DT: Yeah, so I just recently heard K. J. Choi talk in an interview, and he definitely has a strong accent, which means I didn’t meet him in the San Jose airport because the guy I met didn’t have an accent. Which also means the phone call was more than likely not real, which means--

JP: You were extremely manic with hallucinations, delusions, and thoughts of grandiosity.

DT: Yeah, that sounds way better than batshit crazy like I was going to say. Thanks, JP.

KEY TERMS:
PURGATORY, THE WARD, FORBIDDEN FRUIT, PARANOIAC

Submitted on 12/10/10

Red

December 29, 2009-January 4, 2010 (trippy manic flashback):

THE WARD

Forbidden Fruit

I took a bite of the apple, and suddenly the tastes of bleach and of poison filled my mouth. I took off in a sprint towards my bathroom. The toxic smell of poison filled my nostrils as I knelt over the toilet and profusely dry-heaved. I had hardly eaten in days, so each acid reflux was drier and drier until I was merely spitting out saliva. I had eaten the forbidden fruit, and this was my punishment.

I am in purgatory
.

Paranoiac

I grabbed my wrist and felt around, anxiously trying to find a pulse, a beat, a sign of life, but nothing. I switched wrists and fumbled, trying desperately to find evidence that I existed. I grabbed the side of my neck below my jawline and squeezed slightly; I knew I’d find a beat here. After all those years checking my pulse in track, there was no way I’d have trouble feeling it in my neck; it was second nature. Nothing. I switched sides of my neck but to no avail. My legs were spread apart as I sat in my room, and the realization that all of this was not real started to creep into me. I frantically searched my chest for my heartbeat. Each second, the paranoia grew and grew.

I am in purgatory
.

Judgment

“
The judge won’t be back until Monday. All the courts are closed.”

What judge? I had admitted myself this time. There couldn’t be a seventy-two-hour hold on me if I came in under my own free will. Wait; was it my own free will? Why did I have to see a judge if I’d done nothing wrong? Unless this was all real and I had started the apocalypse. Was this a test of my faith? I did nothing wrong.

I am in purgatory
.

Innocent Scars

Such a pretty girl; I had to help . . .

“
What are those on your arms?”

“
Nothing.”

“
You shouldn’t do that.”

“
Why does it matter?”

“
It matters to your family.”

“
Yeah, I’ve been talking to them more lately.”

“
You should, they care.”

I am in purgatory
.

Together?

I was warned to stop socializing with the others. I seemed to be having a negative effect on one of the girls. It perplexed me, that by trying to help I could do so much harm. What place was I in when simply talking with someone jeopardized their wellbeing? I had only wanted to help others, and now it seemed I was the cause of such pain that she stiffened up and froze whenever I was around. I didn’t understand how she could help me so much, yet when I tried to return the favor, I hurt her even more.

I am in purgatory
.

Getting Back Up

“
How do you feel?”

“
Good, like I’m back.”

“
Well, you’ll get your release today, and you do have someone to pick you up?”

“
Yeah, my dad; the nurses told me this morning what time to have him come by.”

“
The hospital will be in touch with you, and the doctor in charge of the study will be reaching out to you as well, good luck.”

I leave the ward
.

Session

DT: Yep, reading that brought back some memories I haven’t had in a while.