I walked out of McDonalds and yelled at the man
with long hair.
“Howard Stern! I love your show, man!” It was
pretty funny. The guy
laughed at the joke and so did my friend Mikey. The guy did look
Howard Stern. This was the one of the first in a long series of
was evidence of a problem that would ultimately lead to my
hospitalization. But at the time, it seemed natural. I felt good
energetic. What was wrong with that?
I was a part of a group that was on a mission trip to Appalachia
to help out the poor. I had been raising money for this trip for
the last year, and now here I finally was, on my way to the church
that we would be staying at over night. (We would leave this
church the next morning, and then head to our ultimate destination
for the week.) I had a great time that day. I was the king of the
world. Everyone liked me, and if they didn’t, then they should
have. I felt so elated that I couldn’t stop making jokes. I was
constantly joking about something. I felt like the most joyful
person in existence.
That night, however, I couldn’t sleep. My mind was racing, and as
much as I tried to stop it, I just couldn’t. So instead I stayed
up all night lying on a couch, staring out the window, having an
imaginary conversation with what I perceived to be a spirit. The
next day, my thoughts were still racing, but my body had slowed
down somewhat. I’d describe my mental state as a “crazy calm.”
That day we arrived at the church that we would be staying at for
the next week.
I have lots
of memories from the next few days, but for the sake of brevity,
I’ll only tell a few.
going up to a group of people from another church and doing a
Chippendale dance in front of them. When they asked me who I was,
I told them, “I am… I Am!” My comment was greeted with blank
stares, to which I replied, “I’m sorry…. I didn’t mean to make a
God joke…” and just walked away. This was one of the more
I didn’t sleep. People started to worry about me. I was becoming
manic, and it showed. I started to have delusions and mild
hallucinations. I call them “mild” hallucinations, because it was
like I could just barely see what I was trying to perceive. It
wasn’t imagining seeing something, it was more real than that, but
it wasn’t quite seeing them either. I remember looking into a
mirror and “mildly” seeing red flames surrounding my body.
However, I was not scared, I just thought that this was a natural
thing to see when one is as important as me.
I stayed up all night writing in a journal. I was writing about my
theories on psychology, and they were groundbreaking. I was making
new discoveries as I wrote. I did not hesitate to cross out what I
had previously written just seconds ago, to make room for what I
was about to write. I was sitting around about ten papers, all
covered in writing and drawings, and I was just adding to them,
more and more. I couldn’t stop writing. The flow of ideas just
kept coming. The next morning, my mind was as fast as ever, but my
body was slowing down. The lack of sleep was taking its toll on my
The next two
days were the worst days of my life. That seems an understatement.
It was as if I was in a nightmare – in fact, I thought I was in a
nightmare, and tried waking myself up several times. Delusions I
can’t even explain were filling my mind with distress, and I was
I came upon the realization that I was the reincarnate of Jesus.
However, I knew that if anyone knew this I would be persecuted
just like he was, so I tried to keep it secret. Then I realized
that I was not Jesus, and that I was really a demon, and I was
going to die that night and go to hell. I tried to lay down, but
my heart was racing. It would not stop. I panicked. I told my mom
that I thought I had to die. She took me to the hospital.
The next few
months were rough for me, as recovering from a manic episode is
like waiting for a spinning wheel to stop spinning. Except instead
of a wheel, it is my mind. I stopped taking my medicine a couple
of times, but the symptoms returned. Now I take them obediently.
The doctors still aren’t sure, but they think I’m bipolar.
a lot since that episode, and it hasn’t been easy. However, as
crazy as it sounds, I have some fond memories of those few days.
The carefree, energetic feeling... the fun I had... the idea that
I was the most important person in the world…it was like doing the
craziest drug on the planet. And everything since then seems pale.