“Put me in the hospital for nerves And then they had to commit me You told 'em all I was crazy They cut off my legs Now I'm an amputee, God damn you”

• Flagpole Sitta, Harvey Danger

---

Evidently the psychological clinic didn't have the authority or expertise or resources or something to schedule J directly in a psychiatric facility. Instead, they took him in the back of a fortified station wagon to the nearby St Vincent's Hospital. And there he sat, waiting to see the clinical staff, in some sort of public foyer area, meters from the sliding glass doors, and freedom. Maybe he was being watched, but it sure felt like he could have just stood up and walked out at any point, for what seemed like a long time. Yet, despite a certain difficulty with sitting still, he opted to stay (perhaps because it seemed the more likely course for getting to see that eminent scientific expert).

After a while they moved him to a small room to wait in until he could be assessed. Now there was all the fun of trying to keep reasonably still, with the added joy of Not Being Around (Let Alone Talking To) People, and the attendant acceleration of J's internal monologue – a monologue that was already Pretty Fast and wasn't exactly crying out for further acceleration.

By the time he left the room and headed for assessment, J now considered himself a Person of Historically Significant Mental Capabilities.

He answered one of the standard battery of mood assessment questions they give you, honestly enough, by writing and drawing various symbols and diagrams representing infinity and so forth, where normally one is expected to circle a number on a more mundane scale of 1-10. 10 is not such a large number, after all, in the scheme of things.

At one point, a member of clinical team informed J he was being scheduled – that is to say, involuntarily admitted for treatment under the Mental Health Act.

While he waited, he made some phone calls, and had some visitors. He tried to explain some Things to them, but it didn't come across so well.

Eventually, after a few actual hours of real time spent at St Vincent's, he was transferred to Rozelle Hospital, at Callan Park – or Lothlorien, as it would come to be referred to in J's writings.

(to be continued)

Akrasia

Oh, hi. You're back. Of course.

When I try In my unskilled way To inspect you You don't seem like Some mere absence A lack of energy But rather a positive force A shifting wall of un-will Between me and my goal

You're not just depression Depression happens next Days spent in bed, Weeks spent inside For want of anything to do which you'll permit It's a spiral With you at the start

So here we are At the start And I prefer to keep writing Maybe not quite so fluently But so far, I persevere I prefer to get out and move, at least a little And not just retreat to a warm bed

Maybe tomorrow Maybe after lunch You'll have better luck We'll see.

“You took a trip, and climbed a tree At Robert Sledge's party And there you stayed, 'til morning came You were not the same after that

You gave your life to Jesus Christ And after all your friends went home You came down, you looked around You were not the same after that”

• Not the Same, Ben Folds

---

So J kept ranting – there was, I want to emphasize, a lot of ranting – and not doing much sleeping (although thank God for some restful breathing yoga techniques on a CD he was given); until eventually after a couple of days, he had a booking with a psychologist that one of his relatives very kindly escorted him to.

The psychologist asked if her student could stay in the room for the appointment, to which J agreed.

So the psychologist asked J what was happening, and J very carefully and methodically gave the version of his life history and recent events that he figured he would have given a few days ago – that is, back when he just had regular Bipolar Disorder, before he developed cognitive super powers and cured himself.

The psychologist carefully and methodically took notes about it all, in that calm and friendly manner that is quite common among psychologists.

J asked if the student could leave the room (he wasn't confident at pulling off what he wanted to achieve with more than one person present). The student left.

J dialled things up from maybe a 7/10 to... much more than 7/10.

He explained very, very rapidly to the psychologist that while all the stuff he'd said earlier was technically accurate, what was much more important was that he now had some unique event happening in his brain; and that he needed to be put in touch with some leading scientific authority in order to begin the urgent study of this profound and potentially revolutionary phenomenon. (It's worth remembering at this point that J had only skimmed a Wikipedia article on Bipolar, and wasn't across any finer details such as the Type I/II distinction).

The psychologist started crying, and pressed the button to call security.

(to be continued)

“So I’ll tell you all the story about the Joker and the Thief I said I’ll tell you all the story about the Joker and the Thief I said I’ll tell you all the story about the Joker and the Thief in the Night”

• The Joker and The Thief, Wolfmother

“There must be some kind of way out of here Said the Joker to the Thief”

• All Along the Watchtower, Bob Dylan

---

I can’t tell you the story about the Joker and the Thief. For one thing, there are now many stories, and who’s to say which one is the one you mean? And for another, if you mean that story… well that story really was written for benefit of the Joker and the Thief, about what transpired between them, and it has been said it won’t be retold in full until they meet again. Also... I might have temporarily misplaced my copy.

But I can certainly tell you a story about the Joker and the Thief.

Once upon a time, there was a man, let’s just call him J. J had been a bit all over the shop for quite a few years of his life, as has been known to happen to people on occasion. One day J was having an excellent day. He had won some minor award at work, the sun was shining, he felt well rested and distinctly unhungover, rather than his usual precarious grip on functioning fuelled by a few too many energy drinks. He returned from the award ceremony to his station of work. He started on a simple task – stuffing some envelopes. But, try as he might, not one envelope could he stuff. His hands were shaking.

“Ah, curse my sleep deprivation, making my hands shake.”

“But… you’ve slept soundly at reasonable hours some three nights in a row”

“Oh, right. So I guess I’m over caffeinated.”

“No, you’re not. You haven’t even had one coffee today. Because you didn’t feel tired, because you slept well.”

“Ah, well, this is a hangover?”

“We already went over this. You haven’t had anything to drink for a couple of days.”

“Oh. So this is…. A Mystery Shaking?”

“It would seem so. Dun dun dun etc.”

J pondered the situation.

“Am I shaking because… I’m too happy? Because my day is going too well. Is that, like, a thing?”

Fortunately J lived in the Golden Era of the Internet, after the popularisation of Wikipedia but before the popularisation of Facebook. A quick trip to the Wikipedia page for “Bipolar Disorder” confirmed a vaguely remembered suspicion – there is a known mental illness where you sometimes feel “too happy”.

Unfortunately, this discovery had the side effect of making J even happier.

“Wow! A Real Actual Mental Illness! I guess I was not just faking being miserable and messed up these last few years. Now they can diagnose and treat me and I Will Be Fixed!”

J told his boss of his amazing discovery; she seemed a little sceptical, but was supportive of his need to go home for the day and then seek treatment.

So J left work, observing as he travelled that he was starting to brim with so much confidence, on some emotional level, that he could almost imagine stepping out into heavy traffic or in front of an oncoming train and expecting to come to no harm. “My, that’s interesting.”

He made his way back to an apartment where some relatives of his lived, to spend some fair portion of time ranting to them about his discovery and its many implications.

J did not get a lot of sleep that night.

(to be continued)

Today I sit here In the afterglow The vision fades But it seems like I am still supposed to follow it? I can't just ignore it I can't forget it Even as I forget the feel of it

Tomorrow Is my last day in hospital For now

Yesterday I could blame the medications For my drop in creativity But today, I am back On my usual doses And writing is more of a struggle Getting up is more of a struggle Life is more of a struggle

Today I try to make the kinds of plans An insane man would approve As sufficient for this insane world I guess I can still do all the same things But slower And less effectively Remembering that if I fail That's OK Others will take my place

Yesterday Life was strangely uncomplicated Waging spiritual war From the comforting structures of an institutional Life

Today The war continues But life is going to get in the way Of any decisive manoeuvres

Yesterday Or before I gave thanks for my church and my congregation How much more I have to give thanks for them now

Today The real work toward wellness begins

Yesterday Well, earlier, actually I learned to feel safe Even in the dreamworld, in its wyrdness Activation without agitation We'll get there One day

Tomorrow Wendy You don't have to die

to the tune of One Thing Remains

With me at the lowest of the lows There to shield me from the harshest blows Ahead of me, wherever my heart goes Your grace, it flows

I'm on my knees, I'm crying out in pain She answers; I don't need Her to explain Whatever happens next, God only knows But Her grace, it flows Her grace, it flows

You're here by my side You're not giving up You're never leaving me alone x3 x2

In life, in love I feel your Awesome Presence As you whisper love to my soul You came, forgave You commuted that hard sentence And you made my spirit whole x2

(chorus) x3 x2

I surround myself With friends Is that unhealthy? Should I be more self-reliant? I mean maybe there's some co-dependence In the sense I'm not myself without them (Can't speak for them about the reverse)

I think the World Prefers us as Atoms Splittable and knittable But we thrive as molecules Abundant chemistry

I treasure my friends They are precious Money can't buy them Time at best solidifies them You have to click, first of all Share a wavelength, hear a call

I hope my friends know They can rebuke me They can leave me if they feel it's right I'll hurt But I'll survive They don't owe me unconditional loyalty Their respect is earned, and maintained

From dusk to dawn I hope to dwell With friends

to the tune of maybe my favourite song

There's no way I could cope Without you You have always got my back And your grace Faced my disgrace You cut me so much slack

Oh woah oh, oh woah oh, oh oh oh

And I just pray Pray and hope With all my soul That when you're trapped in rabbit holes You know I'm here Here with you And we can make our way back

Oh...

And I dreamt we could save the world By playing manic games Turned out harder than I'd thought So far the world looks just the same

And you knew I would let you down But you forgave me just the same More precious than the world to me You helped me back to my good name I've never known a more dependable love

Oh...

At Luna Park We shared our tastes In Dresden Dolls We faced the customers by day And in our way We were on a roll And we were building banter And it didn't matter that our lives were shit We had each other and we just got on with it

You're an impossible survivor More resilient than a star And now that you're alive here You're going to go far

I've never known a more dependable love

At 4am Witching hour My heart sours

The darkness of the world intrudes It makes me Mad How very rude See past my mask, Delilah?

And I won't rest I'll do my best To let you in

And we'll stay in this mess together Until we find Something better

You are incredible, Delilah A queen without a rival You taught me all I've ever known in this damned world About survival

You're wit is quicker than a light switch Your meme game is so flash And when you have my back I know I can hold my nerve

Your grace is full to overflowing You've learnt so much from life And I'm hoping one day soon You'll get what you deserve

I never had a more dependable friend

It's fine to cry, Delilah To ask God “Why?”, Delilah We'll learn to fly, Delilah

Let's see how high we'll float this time x3

this one is also for Cameron. But he'll know the tune this time

Two plus one, to taste salvation Times by four, to every nation Clever, no?

You reach for grace and grasp at meaning For history that keeps repeating Why?

You'd kill your own reflection Betray your own defection To stay up high

You're bruised, but you're not broken Your faith's not just a token You will learn to fly

Just feel the Love From high above Lands like a dove Notice the love

You dodged another bullet The fire's getting heavy but you've held your ground You're out of ammunition But you think you'll be ok if your squad sticks around

You're running now for cover You're trying to retake some poor lost soul Your feet begin to hover You don't know how to dive down the right rabbit hole

Don't hold your breath Don't flee from death Just feel your breath You're safe from death

Ba da da da, Ba da da, Ba da da da da da Ba da da da, da da

Ah, the best thing that you've ever had The best thing you had is but a dream One day you will awaken And the real world will be nothing like you've ever seen

You'll be unbound On solid ground Not lost but found See you around

to a tune Daniel almost picked himself

Dramatize the play The players fade away The script it writes itself, you see The lines they just wash over me I make a show of it

You travel back in time The gravity's sublime The pulsars pulse a steady beat The shadows face a sound defeat They feel afraid of the light Of that which is good, of that which is right

With all the secret virtues you hide, they can still be seen Your wits are sharp, your laugh is on point, and your spirit's keen

And I can barely tell Side to side and round the bend I note what you do well I take my hat off to you If who you will become Is more of what you are now I thoroughly approve

You dodge the winner's pride You stay level inside You fabricate a great device That's made of code and sound advice You feel OK when you're stretched And look on the face that you have sketched

All the broken pieces you find, you'll know how to repair I know that you remember that shame comes before despair

And I can once more breathe We're side to side and round the bend It's not what you believe It's what you bring to the table And what you bring right now's A sign of fruits you're bearing I'm ready to engage

If everybody sees us standing tall If you'll be someone who'll come to catch me when I fall You just gotta remember to be yourself Take your sword and shield and armour down from off the shelf Sideways, still and levitate Singing side to side and don't be late