I CRASHED MY CAR INTO A POLE...ON PURPOSE

I'm bipolar. I'll start off by saying that. This way you have a better understanding of why I did what I did.

In 2009 I was at a Target store early in the morning picking up a CD (yes they existed back then) from my favorite artist...Tupac. I hadn't slept in 2 days. I was on a MANIC binge. I'm bipolar 1. This means I have more manic episodes than depressive ones. I felt invincible that day, indestructible even.

After paying for my CD I got back into my car and tore apart the packaging. I put the CD in my stereo system, turned up the volume, and started bobbing my head to the beat. Then out of the blue, something came over me. I locked my eyes in on a light pole a few hundred feet away. Everything around me slowed down, like the world was going in slow motion. I saw nothing except for the light pole. I decided to challenge the pole to a dual, like those Knights jousting with their lances on horsesback.

I took a deep breath in and slowly blew it back out. I put on my seatbelt. I placed my hands at 10 & 2. I put my Nissan Altima in drive and sped off. I accelerated to 50 MPH. I know this because I remember looking at the odometer. I wasn't trying to kill myself, just wanted to replace the emotional pain with a physical pain. As I approached the pole I closed my eyes. I didn't brake. I ran my car straight into the base of the pole, which was made from concrete. Needless to say, I totalled the car and lost the joust.

After the crash, the next thing I remember was waking up in a psych ward. Because the police found no skid marks, they gave me a 5150, an involuntarily hold at a mental health facility. I would spend the next 30 days there.

The first day there, I was sent to a padded room for a few hours. I refused to take my medication and was aggressive towards the staff. When they let me out I met with the psychiatrist. He told me what I had done. He couldn't believe it. He said he had never met anyone who crashed their car into a pole...intentionally. I felt honored.

The next four weeks sucked. I had a roommate who suffered from schizophrenia. He was like the little kid from the Sixth Sense. He saw dead people. That's a joke, but he did see people who weren't actually there. I know this because he told me and I witnessed it firsthand. This was the first time I was thankful I only had bipolar disorder. What he was suffering from was way worse. I really feel for those suffering from schizophrenia. I gained a better understanding of the challenges these patients endure.

Every couple hours there they would let all the patients go outside for a smoke. They provided the cigarettes of course. My favorite were menthol. I had never smoked a cigarette in my life until I got there. I would continue the bad habit for years after my release. I don't smoke today, but I do get cravings when I see someone lighting up a cig.

They let me out after my 30 day stint. I was depressed when I was released. I would stay in bed for the next 3 months. I was REALLY depressed.

Depression is horrifying. It's like being a prisoner trapped in your own head. Your thoughts always race to thoughts of death and suicide. You isolate yourself from friends and family. You get laid off from your job.

I was "let go" from my job at a mortgage company. That sent me further down the rabbit hole. With no job and no income I had to settle for disability checks. A meager $2,100/month. Living in CA the cost of living is extremely high. $2 Grand ain't nothing. With two kids and an unemploymed wife, we missed four mortgage payments and the bank foreclosured on our home. We had to move in with my in-laws. They were gracious, really good people. But living with my wife's parents made me more depressed. I felt like a failure. I couldn't take care of my family. I cried every day.

After a few months of a deep depression, my psychiatrist suggested I try Electro Convulsive Therapy (ECT) treatments. That's when they strap electrodes to your temple and give you a momentary seizure. After 58 treatments over 18 months, I felt much better. Only problem was that it wiped my long term memory and completely destroyed my short term memory. At one point I had to call my daughter to remind me where we lived. No joke! I forgot where I lived.

Two days after forgetting my address, I ended up having seizures. But these weren't brought on by doctors in a hospital with probes on my temples. Nope! I was taking a shower when I collapsed and started seizing. My wife ran in when she heard my head hit the tub. She dressed me and took me to my bed. I then had another seizure while laying there. She called an ambulance. As they wheeled me out to the ambulance, I had a third seizure.

I would spend two days in the hospital having MRI's and all kinds of other tests. In the end they "guessed" the seizures were brought on by my medication - Wellbutrin. I still think it was the ECT treatments. I haven't had an ECT since.

I'll leave my story at that. I could keep writing for days on end about my struggles with bipolar disorder. But my fingers are cramping up from typing on this iPhone.

So, in conclusion, know that bipolar disorder is no joke. It sucks. It ruins lives, both the sufferer's and those around them. But if you have the tools necessary to combat this horrible mental illness, you CAN survive this sh*t.

I'll tell you more stories in upcoming posts.

For a short film I wrote and directed based on my struggle with bipolar disorder, check out this YouTube link to watch the 24 minute short award winning film I produced.

https://youtu.be/9sRJYRyFars