How To Be Bipolar In LA 5
Sandi Yeah, Me.
I’ve been there before, last summer. I had a manic attack that lasted for weeks. I thought I was getting messages from Jack FM, a local radio station. They have no dj format, only recorded ironic sayings, then music. I thought I had this huge Epiphany one day, listening to that station, like a thunderbolt out of the blue, and I became very agitated and felt otherworldly. I felt I had a direct link to the other side, and I was channeling dead celebrities. All the words in the songs meant something important, and I had to get out there and tell everybody that God is Real, because before this happened to me, I kept having strange synchronistic events that kept occurring to me. When my Epiphany hit, creative thoughts exploded in my mind, one after another, Pop, Pop, Pop, Pop, Pop, and I danced non-stop for hours, writing furiously on a notepad all the meaningful lyrics that were directed at me. I did this until I dropped from exhaustion, only to get up and do it again.
I couldn’t sleep or eat for days, this was so important to me to get out The Word. Songs like “Message in a Bottle” by the Police meant something. Like God was trying to tell everyone through the songs, and me, that to reach our next Evolution, we have to tap into our creative side and be totally open, and then we’ll move into a Higher Cosmic Consciousness and touch The Other Side. And I swear on a bible, I was told to get into my car and just drive. I took a Magic 8 Ball with me, and would listen to the songs on Jack FM, and then ask the Magic 8 Ball if I should go this way or that. I drove on freeways I’d never been on before, going I knew not where, being guided by some inner GPS, and feeling paranoid that I was being followed by the FBI. I don’t even remember how I got anywhere, the miles just blurred past me. I had an intense urge to get wherever it was that I was being directed to.
I ended up at Cal Poly Tech in Pomona. They have a building there on campus that you can see from the freeway. It’s in the shape of a pyramid. I immediately turned off at that exit and drove directly there. I drove around looking for a parking place, afraid I’d get towed. When I saw a mother duck and her ducklings waddling across a parking space I was passing, I knew that that was a Message to me. I turned in. I’m an animal lover, and Magic 8 Ball said it was ok to park there. I was connected to the Universe, remember.
My boyfriend at the time came along for the ride to look after me so I wouldn’t hurt myself. He didn’t even question me about it. That’s love. I had only just met him only days before that, too. Later, he said he thought I was on crack. I brought along my two Polaroid cameras someone had given me for no reason the day before. We got out and went looking for the library. I’d never been to this place before, or any of the other places I ended up at that day. I took pictures with my cameras with no film in them, but with my magical thinking, I thought they would imprint images on the ether anyway. I had no doubt in my mind that I was being sent there to the library.
I walked up to a grounds keeper that was bending over, working on a lawnmower. I asked in which direction was the library, and he pointed the way. “Just over that hill.” Wow. I’d chosen a parking lot from that whole campus that was very close to the library. Sweet.
I stopped, and turned around, and asked him his name. “Peter”, he said. I felt he was there for a special purpose and I was meant to meet him. A Heavenly Messenger. I said, “Thanks, St. Peter!” and he smiled. My boyfriend and I sat down for a minute to rest and to take pictures of the pyramid building with another camera that actually did have film in it. I was looking at the point of the apex of the building against the sky. The sun lined up perfectly with the point. I was really on to something! I had no doubt in my mind. Right then, I heard Peter call out, “Hi Mr. President!” Here comes the president of the college with two females, walking past. I make a point to say hello to him, so he would remember me. The girl in the cowboy hat. I was on a Mission from God.
It was very hot that day. It was in June. I felt ill from not eating, dehydration, the heat, a bladder infection, and I kept suffering bouts of diarrhea, but I carried on with My Mission, no matter how bad I felt. We got up and made our way across this hill to the library. On the way, I saw a cardboard arrow that had blown over, and it was, I had no doubt, pointing the way. I took a picture of it with my empty Polaroid. I had my boyfriend take my picture with the Polaroid in front of the entrance.
We went in, and I chose the 4th floor of the library, because the day of my birth adds up to 4 in numerology. I checked with the Magic 8 Ball to confirm all my decisions. Besides my Magic 8 Ball, I carried a small figure of an angel. Earlier, I had stopped at a convenience store to get refreshments, which I felt too sick to eat or drink. I saw a package of Eclipse gum, and took it for My Mission. I wondered if a celestial event was about to take place, or maybe an attempt would be made to contact the astronauts on the Space Shuttle that was then in orbit.
As soon as I entered the 4th floor of the library, and in my fevered state, I went directly to the bookshelves and started pulling books at random. Mark Twain, French Philosophy, a copy of a book called The Onion, several others. The Onion had fake joke headlines that said, “The CIA killed Kennedy!” Synchronicity.
I had just heard a program a few nights before on Coast-to-Coast AM, a late night talk show that explores UFOs, Spiritualism, Psychic Phenomena, Conspiracy Theories, and other unusual subjects. That night, the person being interviewed was the son of a big shot in the CIA back in the sixties. I forget his name. He had told his son on his deathbed that he was in on the conspiracy to kill Kennedy, and wanted to confess his part in it!
I can’t remember all the books I took down so many months ago, and never got around to writing all my experiences down, because depression took over after my manic phase, and I felt too gloomy to try. Anyway, I took the books I had selected, and chose a meeting room in the middle of a row of rooms with windows looking out on the lawn outside. We walked in, and I walked up to the window. I saw that someone had written an equation on the window. I took pictures with my empty Polaroid cameras. I had them slung across my shoulders when not in use.
I set up my multi-media display on the table. Mark Twain with the package of Eclipse gum, ala 'Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court', when Sir Boss amazed everyone with the prediction of the impending eclipse. I circled the joke headlines on the copy of the Onion, and wrote, “ George Nouri, Coast-to-Coast”. I placed the angel figurine down next to it and wrote, “I Am With You Always”, or something to that effect. I don’t recall all of what I arranged, but I left it there for someone to find. Off we go, back to the car and the heat. I felt quite dizzy and strung out. Onward!
We ended up in Temecula, at the Pechanga Casino. Another place I’d never been to before, on highways I’d never been on before. My magical thinking directed me around the casino, and I felt connected to all the numbers and Native American Spirit Animal Totems throughout the casino. I went up to a painting of an Indian Chief, and saw numbers painted there. I walked around thinking of Pat Benatar for some reason. We came to a showroom, and I swear, there was a picture of Pat Benatar; she was going to be performing there. Love is a Battlefield, Pat. I tried a few slot machines just to see if I’d win in my magical state, but was disappointed. That would have been very cool if I had won something, though!
We left and went out to the covered parking lot where I’d hidden the car so the FBI wouldn’t find us. We slept a little. We left and stopped at a fast food restaurant to get something to eat. I had to choke a few morsels down. I looked over and saw a rabbit peering at me through my window. I felt the Spirit Animals were communicating with me. I was on the right track.
We got home to my boyfriend’s house. I tried to sleep and couldn’t. I left the radio on in case more Messages to me came through on Jack FM. One song would be “Stairway to Heaven” by Led Zeppelin. And I’d think, “Cool.” And feel protected. But in the really late hours, I heard “Sympathy for the Devil,” by the Rolling Stones, and I lay there and quaked with fear. I hid under the covers and put my fingers in my ears. Like there was the Dark Side that wanted to stop me from My Mission and Message.
At one point, the recorded voice said, “Jack FM”, and then something like,
” Homeland Security knows where you’re at”. That set me off again. I had to get out of there. They were after me. I dragged my boyfriend out of bed and said I was going. Off we go again. More freeways; I had to get out of LA fast. I kept thinking,” Bono, Bono, Bono-he knows. He’s tuned in-I have to meet him. We have to get the Word out.” “ Bono, Bono, Bono- Come in Bono!” We end up at, I kid you not-The Jet Propulsion Laboratory in Pasadena at 5am in the morning. NASA! I’ve never been there before. I asked the guard the way to Descanso Gardens because I’d seen it in passing. I didn’t want to blow my cover so the CIA/Homeland Security would find me. I’d turn off the radio and my cell phone sometimes so they couldn’t track me. I was really afraid they’d take me away and make me disappear because I had all this information.
I decided to really get out of LA in case there was an impending disaster, so from there, I decided to get to Mount Wilson Observatory. We would get lost because I didn’t know the way. Back to my Magic 8 Ball. Should I take this street? Yes. This way? No. I got lost once more, and I then began channeling dead celebrities again. “River, River, River Phoenix! Come in, River! Come in, Baby! You’re a Phoenix! Be that bird and help me, Honey!” I look to the right, and I see a big sign that said ‘Lake’. “Thank you baby! This way!” We end up at the observatory at dawn, too early for the gates to be opened. We curl up in the back of my Geo Metro and try to sleep a little.
When the gates open, we go to the observation deck. This woman in a pick up truck drives by; we flag her down. She works there; she’s an astronomer. I ask her if any celestial events were scheduled. No, she said. I feel frustrated. She leaves. My boyfriend and I go to the picnic tables; he sits, and I lay on the table, exhausted.
Eventually, two hikers come up the path and sit at another table to rest. There was no one else around, and it was very quiet. Birds singing, insects humming. I felt in tune with Nature. I know these men are scientists. I just knew it. I asked them if they were scientists, and they confirmed it. I asked them, “Do you believe that all things are connected in this world?” One said, “Well, we scientists are a skeptical lot. We have to have it proven to us.” I get up off the table and twirl around a few times. I say, “I am a dancer, I can feel it-everything in the Universe is connected.” I proceeded to show them all these odd numbers and symbols I had programmed into my cell phone. Entitled variously as ‘Him (God), God loves Oprah, Earth Below Us, The Politics of Dancing, Bono Phone Home, etc’. I kept all these strange numbers in my phone until recently, when I went through a bad depression and thought God didn’t love me after all, and I erased them. (Except Him, just in case!) I wish I’d kept them now. I’d text these numbers, and I asked one of them, “Where are these calls going to? They’re connecting, and going out-where are they going to?” He had no answers for me.