"When I lost my mind, I knew I was in for a long ride" part two

I would like to talk about the other half of my illness, the manic phase. I have only had one manic episode, and some people doubt whether I am truly manic depressive, but nothing can dispute what happend to me in the fall of 2001...

As already alluded to, I was going through a rough period in the suimmer of 2001. Depression, anger, and alcoholic self-medication took their toll and I decided to go back on my meds. I went back on Paxil, which made me nauseous, and, worse, seemed to increase my insomnia. At the behest of my mother, I started using homeopathic remedies to help me sleep and detox my system. It worked for the first few days but the problem persisted soon afterwards. I went to my GP to seek a solution. She put me on a stronger anti-depressant which was to be taken in addition to my paxil. It seemed to be thhe perfect thing. I was able to sleep, and even better, I seemed to be more energetic and productive. But as things ostensibly improved, it became clear to those closest to me that as the days progressed, this solution was turning into another, moreformidable problem.

All of this was taking place at the dawn of my first year in university. I was learning alot and I was beginning to feel like I belonged in an academic environment. I started writing what was at first a schematic for the essays I would write, fused with the story of my life, but as the mania began to build it went from my thesis to my doctorate and then my political manifeto, then he evidence that I was the most important person in the world.

I hadn't seen my friends, Sean, and Chalmers, in a while and we agreed to meet at Tim Horton's one night. As we talked, and drank our coffee, it became clear to them that the Todd they knew was gone, replaced by Taedus Christ. Chalmers later described that night as like talking to some sort of prophet. I was dominating the conversatin and was speaking in parables, telling them I had found the way. I called myself the Doctor after my favourite fictitious character, Doctor Who.

Everything canme to a head at Thanksgiving. My parents tried to tell me that my behaviour was strange. I wore a long scarf, an Ozzy Osbourne shirt, trackpants, a hippy, bead necklace and a top hat. My mind raced such that I felt like I had two voices in my head. I talked too much. I took apart my room. My mom said I was acting eccentric. "I AM ECCENTRIC!!" I said and stormed out of the house, and although, at first, I didn't know where I was going, I instinctively went to my grandmother's place. She took me in, and she could tell I was upset. I told her I thought I was Christ reborn and, that she was shaman and I needed healing. She told me to go lie down and not to talk, but to just rest. She put a wet cloth on my forehead, and called my parents. They came with my brother and sister, and we were going to have Thanksgiving dinner, despite my disruptions. I went into the bedroom and paced around and occassionally made salutary gestures to my grandmother's statue of Jesus. That day my grandmother said something to me that I'll never forget, and it is one of the reasons I take my pills. She said, "You are not being my Todd".

That night I decided to leave home. I packed my things and as I was leaving my dad came out and tried to stop me. I walked out and down the road and waited for them to follow me. After several minutes, I went back home laughing. I don't really remember what about it I found funny, but I guess when you are in a state of mania a lot of weird things can be amusing. I told my dad that night or the next day that that Eva (my sister) and Gordon (my brother) would leave my parents for good, and that they were the ones you had to be worried about. I would always come back.

The next day I got ready for school, and my dad told me to stay home. I watched Doctor Who and then my parents and I went to see a counsellor at school. I told her that I had had a nervous breakdown which I guess is true. My memory is spotty from here on in because my mind was racing too fast to record all the events happening. I had gone for a walk to deliver a letter to Aleks, who was living in Germany at the time. I came home and decided to leave home again. I wanted to go downtown to spread my gospel. I got my gear together and my dad asked me if I wanted a ride. As I got in the car, I knew where we were going. As we arrived at the hospital, I could feel as if I'd made a oparamount decision in my life: getting help, or running away to a life on the streets.

We kept coming and going from the hospital. Some days I'd be home and whole hours would be black out. I'd look at the clock at one point and fade from consciousness (and I don't mean I was asleep) and and consciousness would return and I'd be in the middle of something, and I'd look at the clock and it would be hours later. One time I was in the basement and I thought I saw the eyes of God.
I eventually was admitted and spent several weeks there. The first day, I woke up after a long sleep, and I could not remember who I was. After that, I played musical rooms until I finally got my own room. I wrote alot and played guitar that sounded to one of my fellow patients like "East Indian Blues".

I got out of hospital and I went back to school. Unfortunately I had to drop some good courses. A few weeks later, the worst day of my life occured: the day my brother committed suicide.

It started off as an ordinary day. I woke up and had breakfast. My mom was agitated because my brother was suposed to do something for my grandmother and he was nowhere to be found. I had a shower thinking about the future and how I wanted to be a prof. I got out of the shower, and I heard loud screams and sobs coming from downstairs. Eva grabbed my hand and led me into my room and told me, in the m manner of the playground leader she once was, to get dressed and come downstairs. I obliged. I went downstairs and the police were there. My momwas on the floor sobbing uncontrollably screaming "NO".

Between sobs she told me what happened. Sometime in the night, Gordon hanged himself by the school near where we live. I broke down immediatly. It is a hurt that will never go away only become easier to endure.
To get out of this hell, it took a long time, and alot of courage. Many thanks to the people who helped me get through these days, most especially the Essex family who took me in and let me stay with them while all the craziness went on after Gordon died.

The thing I am congratulated the most about is that I returned to school after all this happened. The truth is I had no place else to go, but I recognize that I could have given up, but that isn't my way.

"When I lost my mind, I knew I was in for a long ride" part one

I've been wanting to tell the story of my mental illness, and the best way to do it I think is to tell "how it all started".

When I was a kid, I was obsessed with science fiction, especially stuff about aliens. I still love sci-fi but my love is tempered by my illness and what happened when I was 12....

Aleks and I had been wanting to become more independent and go watch movies ourselves without any parents. I was especially nervous the day we went to see this movie. Some might call it a premonition, others would say it was my illness and that what happened was the wrong thing at a fertile time. The fact was this movie scared the shit out of me. It was a movie about alien abduction. I became paranoid about aliens. I was terrified to go out at night. And sci-fi, though I still liked it deep down, was suppressed. I still to this day remember very clearly the whole movie. I almost have like flash backs. Things will trigger memories, almost as if it happaned to me.

I figure that at the time I was going through my first bout of depression. I have since been diagnosed with bipolar with psychotic depression, which means on top of the 'normal' depression symptoms I have delusions and obsessional, even paranoid patterns. Deep down I thought either (a) I was or resembled in some way the guy in the movie or (b) the movie was a warning from God to keep me from certain paths.

For years, my entire time in high school, I placed barriers in my mind. I couldn't do certain things without arousing what I called "The Fear". I was deeply paranoid about aliens, and kept my problems to myself until in grade 10, I could hide it no longer. I told my dad. I didn't think anyone would understand. It wasn't just aliens, the paranoia had spread to other areas.

To give an example of the way I thought, I thought because I liked Queen before I saw the movie, I couldn't like them afterwards, as if liking them had somehow caused the badness to happen. All the while I pushed back the barriers as I talked about it with my dad more. I couldn't have facial hair but I grew a mishapen goatee, I couldn't like heavy metal, but I was getting into bands like guns 'n' roses. I was even growing my hair out which was a major barrier. I even watched sci-fi movies like 2001: Space Odyssey and the later Star Trek movies. Although I did fight my barriers, I would often think of the movie at night, and my mind would race and would have a debate with itself. I would usually wake up in the morning resolved but tired from lack of sleep, and it would usually take a few days to return to 'normal'. Eventually, following the longest stretch without these "night attacks" in 1999, I felt there was no need for barriers. That is when the shit hit the fan.

In the winter of 2000, I completely broke down. I tried to reconcile my old fears with me rediscovery of my love for sci-fi. Soon my paranoias became ubiquitous. I couldn't do anything because "The Fear" was in all things. I was hospitalized and put on medication (I will talk about this in greater detail in another entry).
I realize now I was putting barriers on who I wanted to be, and who I really was because I thought it resembled the people in the movie, but the truth is I am, and the things I like are, nothing like that.I now have long hair, a beard, and I wear clothes that I was once too paranoid to wear. It is my active rebellion against the irrational fears. It took a long time to get to this point.

I don't believe my problems are gone for good because I thought that in the fall of 2004. I did a group project on extraterrestrial life, and I read a book on UFOs which depicted what happened in the movie. Shit hit the fan again, but thankfully I got things under control, so I did not have to go to the hospital again.

It is not just UFO stuff that would set mne off. The debate between free will and determinism is one that has set me off, particularly in the fall of 2004. Another thing I have experienced is thinking that nothing is real. That is a really scary feeling that only three inadequate words come close to signifying.

As I say I am a lot bettr now but I don't let myself get too comfortable thinking I have it beat. My GP and Psychiatrist say that I have a mental version of diabetes, and that I need to keep things in balance. It is not always easy but I've learned that as bad as things can get, I always get over them somehow.

" 'Ey! 'O! Let's go!!"

I used to hang out with a Christian punk band. Now, I am neither a Christian, nor am I a big fan of punk, but they were nice guys and they made me feel welcome in their hitherto unfamiliar habitat of church basements and other venues.

I made friends with their drummer, Evan, who used to work with me. We would talk about music and one day he invited me to one of their shows....in the basement of some church.

I went, and, not to sound biased, but I liked Evan's band's sound better than the other groups. This would be typical of the shows I attended. Most of the other bands may have been talented, but I always liked the rythmic style of Evan's band, and their stage presence/attitude. They weren't trying to prove anything. They weren't posing. The genuinely enjoyed what they were doing and consequently their style came of as sounding and looking natural. Also I found that the other bands would do a sound check and I would be all excited, expecting some heavy numbers I could bang my head to (in a punk rock way of course) but I would always be disappointed by what I heard. Either they would play some emo shit, (which I don't dig), or "screamo"/hard core (which I REALLY don't dig), or they generally sounded lamer or more forced than their soundcheck let on. But again, Evan's band always delivered...even on an off night.

My favourite shows were either at this venue called the Embassy ( a sort of extremely run down hotel where young punks and/or goths could watch their friends play their subversive forms of music), or out of town . Sometimes I'd be invited to join them in their van to go to shows in small towns outside London. We'd listen to punk cds or the tape of Indian music the previous owner left n the van. We'd get to some of the shows and I would be let in for free posing as the band's roadie. I used to wear a costume top hat, and I'd look like Slash as I carried my friends' gear into the backstage area.

Shows aside, hanging out with these guys assured me a good time. One time we went to the Palasad, a pool hall that serves alcoholic bevarages. My friends were fooling around. One chased the other trying to poke him in the buttocks. Well, we got kicked out. Banned for life, though I've since been back.

I have two regrets though. One is that I never see these guys anymore. The other is that I never got to jam with them on stage or in their rehearsal places. I would have liked to have played with them on the set-finisher, "I'm Dead!". Still these were good times. Thank you Evan, Chris, John, Jamie and Jer for sharing with me your punk rock world.

Prelude to darkness part 2

Summer 2001


The effects of being off my meds completely began to set in. I had trouble sleeping, and I was angry all the time for no real reason. I blamed my parents for a lot of my problems because, afterall, it was their fault I was alive when I clearly did not want to be. Not that I was totally suicidal. I would descibe my thoughts as borderline homocidal.

Like many people I know, I used ICQ to chat with friends. It's strange to think about now, but random girls would add me to their list and chat with me. I befriended one girl who lived in London and I chatted with her everyday, bearing my innermost with her. We talked a lot about dating and I told her about the Terrly fiasco. She said the immortal words. "Oh that is so sad. We should go out." My spirits lifted.

We agreed to meet at Joe Kool's on Richmond street. That night I did my best to look presentable, put on cologne and and got on the bus to go downtown. I got to the bar expecting to see her but she wasn't there. Well, I told myself, it's still early. Order yourself a beer and she should be here shortly.

Well one beer turned into two and then three, and now she was well over 45 mins late. As I finished my fourth beer I realized I'd been had, and I went to the upstairs patio and ordered some food and plenty of beer to wash it and my troubles down. When I was done, I walked up Richmond and ran into a childhood friend, Ryan, and he asked me what was up. I said "I've just been stood up"
"Ouch, man," he said. "You gonna go get drunk?"
"Already there, man" I said.

I had a few more drinks at a different bar and I took a cab home. I woke up the next morning and my mom asked me how my date went. I told it went shitty and that I got stood up. I went online on ICQ and found out from a friend of the girl that she was only kidding about meeting. I've been unable to trust any online dating things because of this experience.

At this time I hated my job. I thought of nothing more than getting out of there when I went to work. And it showed. So much so that my boss wouldn't give me extra hours because of my attitude. Again, being off my meds I had severe emotional problems. I started listening to Korn and felt like only heavy metal understood how I felt. I wrote lyrics to a song and sent them in an e-mail to Aleks in Germany. They went something like this:
I'm going to kill you motherfucker
I'm gonna shoot you in the head
I'm gonna kill you, donkey licker
I'm gonna kill you till you're dead
Aleks recorded himself playing guitar and singing these words but in a sort of mellow, acoustic way. I laughed in spite of myself.

At this point I had serious plans to ask out Kathryn from work. When she announced that she was transferring to central, I took this opportunity to ask her out. Of all the girls I've asked out, she seemed to give the most positive response. She agreed to have coffee after our last shift together. We went to the coffee shop on the corner of Dundas And Richmond. We talked about our respective troubles, me with my mental illness, and her with her dysfunctional family. I could stand it any longer. I tried to be subtle but it wasn't working. It was time to be blunt
"I feel really close to you," I said
"I feel close to you too, Todd" She said
"I want to start a relationship with you"
She told me she couldn't handle being in a relationship, and that she would only end up pushing me away. This wasn't turning out to be my summer for romance

We said our goodbyes. I promised to show her around the college once school started
which was in a few weeks. All this plus an increasing insomnia caused me to consider getting back on the meds. I had no idea what lay a head of me in the fall of 2001, the darkest period of my life.