Tag: manic depression
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The Sudden, Psychotic Need for Jazz
About a week after the breakdown on Christmas day, in a moment of relative calm, I was sitting outside in my pajamas, staring at the property fence, and two things happened: I said, “Fuck this shit,” and I rearranged my room. The Fuck this shit wasn’t about my room—the room where I spend most of…
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Marriage, Madness, and War
I fell in love because Michelle was gorgeous. I fell in love because we held long, intense conversations together. I fell in love because she was the most stable person I had ever met. I know that now. Back then, I was simply focused on her foxy-ness, and didn’t realize there was a subconscious voice…
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Why We Cut Ourselves
The memory of me sitting down at ten years old, digging a hole into my leg with a knife and a needle (see yesterday’s post), feels distinct from the times I pulled blades over my arms and legs. The childhood act seems premeditated: a kid in the middle of summer, bored and looking for something…
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A Weekend Note from the Home Asylum
I’ve received emails from people, responding to posts about my recent psychotic breakdown. Some of them are friends who ask: 1. If I’m okay and 2. Do I really want to do this? Write about my mental illness? They’re concerned that it will set off another episode. They might have a point. Then there are…
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Update From the Home Asylum
It’s been a little over ten days since the crack from reality. I’m calmer now. It’s not over. It’s never over. But I’m able to read in the mornings, which is a very good sign. I’m into Yusef Komunyakaa’s collection of poetry, Neon Vernacular, which I highly recommend. Incredible Vietnam War poems, and his syntax…