This was the first episode I had while taking meds. I’ll admit I was not taking them every night. I had a breakthrough on Abilify. Once I got manic I stopped taking it entirely. The feeling of euphoria and power that comes from mania is so very seductive and addicting for me. That feeling of power is so tempting. I’m not really clear on the events leading up to being committed to 3 East. I think I checked myself into the hospital with encouragement from friends and family. I started taking the meds to get out of the hospital. I also would behave in the hospital like I wasn’t sick. I wasn’t there very long and they released me. I had them and myself fooled. I didn’t comply with the meds or outpatient treatment. I was back in 3 East in a few weeks. In the hospital I’m really good at pretending like I’m cured so I can get the fuck out of that miserable place. Mental hospitals are terrible places. Especially ones where you can’t go outside, like 3 East. 

I definitely had the psychiatrist convinced I was good because he said, “You shouldn’t be here. There are people much sicker that need this bed more than you.” This was an awful thing to say because my manic mind was thinking the same thing. I said, “You’re right! I don’t need to be here.” In my head, I don’t need anything from the mental health professionals. I don’t need their meds, their therapy, or their routine! I’ve never been better. When I’m on meds I feel like I went from the holodeck off Star Trek to black and white TV. My experience is that my senses are WAY more vibrant when I’m manic. I’m doing better without the meds. In fact I’m not sick, I’m enlightened.

My grandparents knew I was having problems so they invited me to move to Southern Utah. Boy did they not know what they were getting themselves into. I wasn’t around my father’s parents much growing up so my grandma wanted to get to know me. She got to know manic me and it wasn’t pleasant. So I agreed to move. I packed up my Mitsubishi Mighty Max and hit the road. The road trip from hell. I literally communed with demons. On the way out I ran into a terrible dust storm outside of Moab. I couldn’t see the front of my truck because the dust was so thick. A sane person would have stopped and waited it out. I kept on trucking. I got off I-70 and went south through Moab to avoid the storm. I stopped off at a bar in Moab and harassed some people, as one does. 

I drove through Northern Arizona. I don’t think I had a phone and my family was so worried. I had guns, which I shouldn’t have had. I was definitely not in the right state of mind for guns. Going this round-about way to Southern Utah I got so lost. This was 2009 and my phone didn’t have maps. Nor did I have the mental capacity to navigate. I stopped in the woods along the way and sawed off my shotgun barrel. I don’t remember the reason, I guess it would be better for self defense. Highly illegal. Especially since I wasn’t supposed to own guns anyway. I remember driving by Brian Head ski resort then in a small town for hours trying to figure out how to get to my grandparents small town. Looking back I was in Minersville which was surprisingly pretty close to where I wanted to be.

I didn’t sleep the entire time and I remember being in Moab at night and then the sun rising over Arizona and it being night when I eventually ended up in Beaver, UT. I was reported armed and dangerous. Not really sure who I scared or who reported me. My grandparents tried to find me in northern Arizona and eventually picked me up in the Beaver county jail. They took me to their home. I should have gone to the mental hospital. I was so fucked up. 

My grandma took me to a mental health clinic in St.George. I had rubbed deer blood all over my face before we left. Yet another time I was failed by mental health professionals. Clearly I needed acute help but she just made me an appointment for like 2 weeks from that day. I never made that appointment. I remember her saying, “There’s blood on your face. You seem like you’re trying hard to be insane.” I guess it was a cry for help. I wish she would have realized I was very ill. Then I went around the small town they lived in preaching my version of the gospel. I don’t remember the specifics of what I was preaching, but it was psychotic and unhinged, like me.