ONE Article: Bipolar, Part 1

It was 1:15 in the morning. I grabbed my wallet, my keys and my watch and headed for the door. I yelled, “I just have to get out of here.” My wife, Lori, who had been sound asleep moments before tried to get to the door before I did. I beat her out the door and jumped into my Honda. As I was pulling away she tried to jump on the corner of the hood – anything to stop my leaving. I threw the car into reverse and watched her slide off onto the ground. I punched the gas and sped away.

The speedometer was pushed past 80. I didn’t know where I was going. I didn’t really know why I was going. I just felt in some deep seated part of my soul that I had to run. As I got out to Highway 75 I noticed that a car was gaining on me and the driver was flashing her lights. I knew it had to be her. “Why doesn’t she leave me alone?” I shouted to my empty car.

I went over another hill and lost her in the rear view mirror. I saw a side road and I turned sharply, skidding around the corner. I drove a few hundred feet, took my foot off the gas and turned off my lights. I saw her fly by. Finally. I’m alone.

The relief was short lived. It’s the middle of the night and I’m on some side road that I’ve never been on before. I really need to just drive. I’ve got to get on the Interstate. But which way would I go? I’m from Seattle, so people would look for me to head west. I could go north, but Lori has family that direction. What about south? No logical reason not to go south, I said to myself. Even in the midst of my madness I still believed myself to be logical.

Seven months earlier I had been in a locked mental facility.

I sort of feel like I’m in prison. I’m not allowed to go for a walk or go outside. Ironically, all I want to do is go outside for a walk. Lori’s always bugging me about wanting to go for walks – if only she could hear me now.

I’m sitting here in my room at a mental hospital. I just talked with Lori and she told Mr. Nickels* where I was. He said he was proud of me. That’s what everyone has told me. I don’t feel proud. I just feel out of place. I don’t belong here.

After journaling those words I went to sleep. My life was about to be changed forever.



*names have been changed