Detour from Normal (44 page)

These aren't just random trinkets of information—they are tools I use every day. You see, although I became the way I am by accident, there is no guarantee I will stay this way unless I make an effort to do so. In that sense I'm no different than anyone else. I must take action to live in the present. It is work, but over time it becomes a lifestyle that you will be glad you chose.

We Are People

Over the course of this book, you may have wondered if my concern for other patients was genuine or if it was simply a product of my mania. I
don't know that I can ever answer that question with certainty. I'd never been to facilities like those before and had never interacted with patients like the ones there. Having only been exposed to them in a manic state, I can never be sure if I would have felt the same compassion for them had I been normal. On the other hand, my feelings for them have not diminished over time. I think of many of those patients often and wonder what became of them. I can do nothing to help my fellow patients now, but I wish to submit the following recommendations in their honor to medical and mental health professionals.

First, view each patient as your spouse, mother, father, or sibling, and ask yourself what course of action you would take if that were the situation.

Second, eliminate bias and prejudice from your workforce through good hiring practices and training. When I was fighting medical issues at Desert Hope, the medical professionals were genuinely interested in my well-being. Everyone was compassionate, concerned, and engaged. When I became manic, it was completely the opposite—at the very same hospital. From then on I experienced the impact of bias and prejudice from nearly every medical and mental health professional I encountered. Though well intentioned, medical and mental health professionals are only human and, without the right knowledge and training, they are prone to the same biases and prejudices as anyone else.

This last recommendation is mainly for mental health professionals. As I sifted through hundreds of pages of records during the writing of this book, I was astounded at how much information the staff had written about me. Aside from a few minutes spent here and there with a psychiatrist, none of those people actually interacted with me. Instead they spent nearly all of their time sitting at their desks writing verbosely about
me and other patients based on a few casual observations. My heart goes out to those people with their overwhelming paperwork requirements, but the truth is, if you really want to help patients, you have to interact with them on a personal level. Toss a Nerf football with someone like Grace. It's possible she may toss it back. When you meet a Carlos shuffling down the hall, give him a high five, and when you see him in the cafeteria, make sure he's getting a square meal. Perhaps one day he'll shake your hand and say, "God bless you." Have a chat with a Jimmy now and then. He may stop his babbling and tell you about his girlfriend and his cats. Play "crazy" beanbag with a Robert. You'll be overjoyed when his grumbles turn into laughter. Comfort a crying Jessie, knowing that sometime in the next few hours she'll be gone from your life and you'll never know if your act of compassion made any difference. Be an angel to a Matthew, and perhaps one day he'll honor you by asking you to share some lukewarm pizza with him. Work your gardens with a Ken, and maybe he'll share the story of your kindness with others.

We are all people just like you, and you can make such a difference in our lives by getting to know us and accepting us despite our compromised state. I guarantee that if you do, those sorts of moments will not only be commonplace, but they will light up your days and make all your efforts worthwhile, too.

Utopia.com

At the company I work for, I'm always amazed that everyone is able to get along despite living in different countries, speaking different languages, and having different cultures and religious beliefs, among other
things. The reason is that, in order to reap the rewards of working there, we have to follow rules that neutralize the impact of our differences—rules that at the same time reward us for working together toward the common beliefs of the company.

During my ordeal, a perfect storm of disabilities and (arguably) enhanced abilities opened my eyes to how the world might be without negative emotions. The sudden loss of those emotions enabled me to recognize their impact on our daily lives. Being a very creative person, my mind went wild with all the possibilities. Not understanding why I had suddenly become the way I was, I believed that I'd somehow been given a gift by a higher power. Since the symptoms did not immediately resolve, I believed that it was a permanent condition. One thing led to another, and before long I believed I was seeing the same change in others and concluded that I was contagious. In a matter of days, I went from being a normal person to someone with completely unorthodox beliefs. In a way I was only being human, believing in things that could not be proven. I was no different than the many family members and friends who were struggling to help me. They each hold different beliefs of religion, politics, gun ownership, and child rearing, just to name a few things. Just as I am unable to change what they believe, they were unable to change my beliefs despite the overwhelming truths with which they bombarded me.

When I became well again, that proved to be the biggest lesson of my life. I learned that believing in something doesn't make it true. My beliefs were temporarily shattered, but from that I grew to appreciate the transitory and fluid nature of belief and its interaction with faith and truth. Humanity tends to place belief on a pedestal while discounting truth, but it should be the other way around. Truth should be held in
the highest regard, and belief should be an instrument for finding truth. Here is how I see things now...

Belief is unprovable, but it is a stepping-stone to truth.

Faith is unshakable. It is neither belief nor truth but lights the way between them.

Truth is undeniable. It is both the intention and the end of belief and the reward of faith.

My experiences highlighted how entrenched humanity is in our beliefs and how powerful an influence they are in our lives. At the same time, beliefs are responsible for our worst nightmares and our greatest achievements. Hitler built crematoriums and incinerated Jews by the millions because he believed them to be an inferior race. Thomas Edison tried and failed with thousands of lightbulb designs over a two-year period because he believed each design was the one that would work. John F. Kennedy shouted, "We choose the moon!" initiating a fury of technological development that landed Americans on the moon in only a few years because he believed we could do it.

Clearly belief is both a bane and a blessing. It motivates us to create anything from bicycles to skyscrapers, or to strap a bomb to our body and kill ourselves and countless innocents, in the hope that it will gain us favor in a believed-in afterlife.

Now that I'm well, I no longer believe that people will change, but I am still convinced that the possibilities I envisioned are viable. We just have to figure out a way to keep beliefs that isolate and destroy us from getting in the way. Even though I've seen efforts along those lines here and there, they never seemed to thrive. There is one exception: the
Internet. It seems that there everyone is getting the message that to succeed they need to work around people's beliefs. In any area of our lives, if we can accomplish that objective, we can achieve things never before possible.

My hope for humanity is that whether by accident, by innovation, or by act of God we are somehow provided with the means to mask our differences so that all of humanity can better work together and achieve things beyond our wildest dreams. I believe that will occur with the Internet. In many ways it has already begun.

Chapter 37

NOTHING STOPS LIFE

I marveled at the perfectly shaped spring leaves of the small orange tree as I ran my fingers across one. They seemed almost as if they were made of plastic. The tree was barely over waist height yet was covered with white blossoms. I didn't need to lean into them to smell their wonderful, sweet aroma, but I did anyway. I inhaled deeply and reveled in it. Nothing beats the smell of orange tree blossoms in my book. In Phoenix I smell them everywhere in the spring. It may be another eleven months until I can pick my first orange from that tree, peel off the skin, and taste it.

Beside the little orange tree was a taller tree, nearly twice its size—a nectarine tree. It had been covered with wondrous pink blossoms weeks before and now sported dozens of reddish-green fruit each about the size of a small marble. I stepped over to it and began counting them, only to give up.

On April 10, 2011, there had been two large holes in the caliche where these trees now stood, almost a year later, blossoming and ready to bear fruit. On that day I had nearly killed myself digging those holes with a shovel and a pick. The chain of events I started then was beyond unbelievable. I couldn't help but wonder that I was standing next to these two trees now.
Nothing stops life,
I thought to myself.

AFTERWORD

Before I began writing this book, I was desperate to protect myself from ever experiencing these things again, and I began writing with that in mind. Initially I focused heavily on explaining my disorder and was met with little or no response from anyone involved. As I continued my efforts, I realized that the task was much more complex: it involved all aspects of my life surrounding the time of my surgery, illness, and beyond. As everything came together, I realized that I had a compelling story to tell, one that could not only serve to protect me but could also help others. As I thought back to all the other psychiatric patients trapped in the system, I could not stop myself from writing that story, and it had been a passion of mine ever since. Aside from Beth, Tim, and my mother, I have had little support or understanding on this journey, and indeed, my dedication to this book has seemed to many as just another symptom of ongoing mental illness. I have not previously written or published anything, and what you are reading is the product of countless hours of learning, research, writing, rewriting, and tears of both joy and sorrow so that I could present this work from my heart to you. I hope I have touched you and made you think of those less fortunate than you. I hope I've opened your eyes to new ideas and inspired you. I hope more than anything that I've bettered your life in some small way. Thank you for allowing me to share my story with you.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Dana, you will never know how much it meant to me that you traveled so far and spent so much time with me when I was medically and mentally ill. I'm honored to have you for a big brother. Tim, you are an incredible listener and friend. It is a true testament of your courage that you are still around after everything you've seen and heard. Cole, I thank you and David for the heartfelt blessing when I was hospitalized and for your and Andrea's help throughout my ordeal. Bill, thank you for visiting me often at the hospital, and for all your efforts to ensure that I kept my job. Cynthia, thank you for guiding and comforting Beth at a time when she most needed it. Mom, I greatly appreciate your love, support, and letters of encouragement, which always seem to arrive when they are most needed. It is so rare and magical to receive handwritten mail in this age. Dad, thank you for not only teaching me how to survive life's challenges but also to see opportunity in them. I never realized how well prepared I was.

For all the other family, friends, and neighbors who were involved in a truly challenging situation, thank you from the bottom of my heart for your concern, kindness, and good will when I was hospitalized and institutionalized. Lastly, thanks to my children, Kaitlin and Hailey, who constantly remind me to live in the moment and who never cease to amaze and inspire me.

I especially wish to thank my editors, Dr. Elizabeth Lowry, Matthew Brennan, and Kent Corbin. Elizabeth, while I was still recovering, you accepted my crude manuscript. Instead of discouraging me from writing, you lit the path to a grand passion. Others might have thought me hopeless, but you transformed me by gently educating me, and encouraged me to look beyond my original vision. Your tutelage meant so much to me. Matthew, thank you for your infinite patience and suggestions as you struggled through my typos and grammatical errors. Kent, thanks so much for your valuable help on the book proposal, query, and book itself. You helped me to hone skills that I later utilized to improve and even rewrite chapters. Finally, thanks to all my CreateSpace team for the fantastic cover art, editing, formatting, promotion, and everything else required to bring the book to life.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Blackwell, Sean.
Am I Bipolar or Waking Up?
CreateSpace, 2011.

Bolte, Jill Bolte, Ph.D.
My Stroke of Insight.
Viking Penguin, 2008.

Ekman, Paul.
Emotions Revealed,
2nd edition. Holt Paperbacks, 2007.

Eron, Judy.
What Goes Up.
Barracade Books Inc., 2005.