Psychos of Atlanta! I’ll be at the Laughing Skull on Friday 4/28, Saturday 4/29, and Sunday 4/30. I’ll be at Star Bar on Monday 5/1. Come on out!
It’s October of 2000. I’m a 19 year old sophomore at the University of Michigan in Ann Arbor. I find myself walking through the quad in the center of campus. Then, suddenly and seemingly out of nowhere, the contents of my unconscious mind flood into my consciousness. I feel a sustained rush of energy throughout my mind and body. I perceive the connectivity of life; the oneness of all life. It’s an awakening. I’m becoming more human; more empathetic, sympathetic and compassionate. It is exhilarating, miraculous and overwhelming. I cry uncontrollably. I see the imagery of doves. This MUST be enlightenment. However, over the course of the next number of weeks, my ego proceeds to become completely unhinged, and I become messianic in my thinking. I start to believe that I’m the second coming. And, unfortunately, in this case, the second coming turns out to be an unstable, psychotic wrecking ball. Now it is off to the mania races, indeed!
Over the course of the next number of weeks and months, I develop all of the telltale signs of a manic episode due to Bipolar 1 Disorder: I’m not sleeping, my thoughts are racing, I’m speaking incredibly quickly, I’m easily agitated, I’m spending money recklessly, I’m partaking in risky behavior, and, most interestingly, I’m experiencing delusions of grandeur, as my life takes on a megalomaniacal level of importance. After all, I am the Messiah. And as it turns out, in my mind, I am, more specifically, the reincarnation of the Rastafarian Messiah, Jah, who Bob Marley would sing about all of the time. In retrospect, this is a very embarrassing thing to believe. Plus, can we talk about how disappointed the Rasta community would be, if it turned out that I (a delusional little white guy from New Jersey) was their Messiah??? Lol.
I find myself believing other things that turn out to be quite embarrassing, after the fact. I believe that famous musicians are composing entire albums about me. I think that the U2 album, ‘All That You Can’t Leave Behind,’ is all about me. Now THAT is embarrassing. It’s not even one of U2’s better albums. It’s nearly a full decade past the golden age of U2, which everybody knows is from 1980 to 1991. We all know this. But that being said, in all fairness, take a look at some of the lyrics from the fourth track on ‘All That You Can’t Leave Behind,’ the song ‘Walk On:’
“You’re packing a suitcase for a place none of us has been…
You could have flown away…
A singing bird in an open cage…
Who will only fly - only fly for freedom…”
How could I NOT have believed that was about me?! Lol.
Another thing I believe is that I am the mascot and spiritual inspiration for the University of Michigan’s club soccer team. I’m the Wolverine. After all, I’m not rocking a shitty half-a-beard for nothing! I show up at the games wearing the school’s colors, blue and maize. I run up and down the sideline of the field cheering the team on. I believe that my energy and exuberance are altering the outcome of the match. Eventually I get banned from attending. Some weeks before that, I actually try out for the team, and because of all of my manic energy, I do pretty well. That’s something that is strange about mania: When I’m manic, my psychological energy can sometimes transcend into the physical realm. I find myself getting into better shape and having more physical prowess. There certainly appears to be some sort of weird mind-body connection.
As I continue to be manic, I alienate myself from all of my friends. I burn a lot of my social bridges. I start to hangout with a new group of people who have no frame of reference to know me outside of me being manic. Some of these new friends happen to be homeless. They turn out to be kind and gentle souls, but I still probably shouldn’t bring them into my apartment. As a general rule, roommates don’t love it when you bring homeless people into the apartment. All we do while we are in there is listen to music; mostly Classic Rock, but also ‘Canon in D’ by Pachelbel ON REPEAT until my roommates wake up. It’s not a good scene. There is lots of yelling. Myself and my new friends are forced to leave the apartment. I honestly can’t remember if I am ever allowed back.
By far, though, the most bizarre, intense and, ultimately, hilarious thing I can remember from my first manic episode is when I crashed the 50th birthday party of a prominent Hindu woman. I can’t remember her name, but I know that she is a spiritual leader in the community. At the time, I believe that I am a spiritual leader too, so it only makes sense that we need to get together! It’s a wild story, and it has become part of my stand up act. The bit is included in the audio link at the top of this newsletter, if you wanna give it a listen.
‘My First Manic Episode (Part Two)’ coming next week…
Love,
JFOD
My First Manic Episode (Part One)