On Writing - Ch 1 of This Darkness is Mine: A Novel based on a true story

This Darkness is Mine: The Dark Gift of Bipolar
A Novel based on a true story

(Names have been changed to protect the identity of living people)



Ch 1: No sense of urgency (New Year’s Eve 2014)

A crowd gathered around the valet area, craning to see the woman kneeling at the edge of a planter with her face almost buried in the mulch. A muscular Black man in a grey uniform pushed through the swelling throng, clearing a path for the hotel’s spa director to reach the woman.

“Is everything okay, Michelle?” asked Lorraine, the spa director. Slender and waiflike, she teetered on dangerously spiky heels. “Why were you rolling around on the ground?”

Puzzled, Michelle Delphinia looked up from the chewed up bubblegum and shiny dime she found mixed in the mulch. Shielding her eyes from the sun, she slowly shook her head. “Rolling on the ground? I’m just sitting here.”

Lorraine offered a placating smile to the crowd, then faced Michelle again. “You have the rest of the day off, okay? I called your brother. Your brother is coming to get you, so go with Bill from security.”

Michelle frowned. Why is Lorraine talking to me like I’m in nursery school? “You called my brother? He’s not going to be happy to have to come all the way to Miami.”

Bill’s hulking muscles and innocuous smile confused her further, but she was too disoriented to protest. She got up to follow him and her mind raced. I wasn’t rolling around on the ground, was I? Oh my God, she thought to herself. I was just minding my own business. God needs me to figure out reincarnation, and I was so, so very close. I can’t be expected to work it all out with these damned interruptions. But what if… what if this is a fuck up?

Bill escorted her through the crowd to a small, featureless room within breathing distance of two dumpsters. He motioned to a chair. She sat and remained quiet except for frequent requests for water, but no amount of water she drank could quench her thirst. She waited anxiously for an interrogation. The staff eyed her suspiciously but they didn’t ask any questions, so she turned her attention to six monitors on the desk. Must be boring as hell to watch the same plants do nothing all day, she thought.

Eventually, drinking so much water caught up with her. “I need the restroom, please,” she said, tugging at her black uniform top.

She couldn’t understand why she needed an escort to the employees’ restroom. I know the way to the damn restroom. The security officer waited outside the door. When Michelle came back out, she headed right to return to work, but the woman blocked her way. The impassive look on the woman’s face and crossed arms confused her.

Michelle raised her eyebrows; she didn’t like the way the woman looked at her. “I can’t go back to work?”

The officer shook her head.

Michelle paused a moment to process the answer, but it meant nothing to her. Fine, I don’t even want to go back to work. I have bigger shit to take down than you anyway. She shrugged and walked back to the beige office, finding her brother there talking to Bill.

She sat again, now wondering if Allen could talk him into letting her return to work.

“Thanks, Bill, I appreciate that,” Allen said, sounding weary. “Perhaps I’ll get her to change her emergency contact to her boyfriend.” He turned to her. “How are you feeling, Michelle?” Despite Allen’s light tone, distress tainted his brown eyes, and his shoulders stooped.

“I’m all right. They won’t let me go back to work. I have the rest of the day off now.” She didn’t want him to worry.

Bill said, “You’ll need to remove your car from the city lot, or it’ll get towed if you let it stay overnight.”

“I drove my mother’s car,” she said. “It’s in valet.” She knew full well that parking in valet was strictly off limits for employees and expected a reprimand.

“Oh, that’s very good then. We have it.” Bill smiled at Allen before returning his attention to her. “I’ll waive the fee for you, don’t worry. You can pick up the car whenever you’re able, okay?”

Michelle’s shoulders slumped in relief and she looked up at her brother. “God makes things work out, huh?”

Allen smiled wanly, slowly rubbed his forehead, and nodded. “Yes, Jehovah makes things work out.”

She blanched. Hearing his favorite name for God felt like insects crawling in her ears. Michelle followed Allen to his car, annoyed that he couldn’t resist leaving a damned Watchtower magazine with Bill. She noticed scratches on his yellow car; it was starting to look old, just like Allen’s ill-fitting casual business attire.

Her face fell at the sight of their mother, Janet, sitting in the back seat. “Oh, fucking fantastic,” she mumbled, rolling her head. She didn’t want to make this a family ordeal, but now her mother must be worried.

She stopped and glared at her brother. “Allen, why did you bring Mom?”

Allen kept on toward the car and got in the driver’s side.

Exasperated, Michelle dropped heavily into the passenger seat. “Hi, Mom,” she said, too ashamed to look at her.

Janet said nothing, and Michelle’s fury intensified at Allen for bringing her.

“You buckled in, Michelle?” he asked, officiously.

“Yes,” she said, forcing her voice not to sound hostile since he’d come out of his way for this, but she was angry he ignored her question. The fading scent of his sandalwood air freshener irritated her.

“How are you feeling?”

“I don’t know,” she said, not wanting to talk about it with him. “It was a rough day.” She smiled to herself. “I got a gift though.”

“A gift? That’s nice. From a guest?”

“No no, from God.” Michelle looked at her brother out of the corner of her eyes, hoping he wouldn’t quote scripture or start preaching at her.

“I...guess...that’s...a good thing.”

She knew he said that just to appease her, so to punish him, she decided not to say anything more about her gift. It was between her and God anyway, but she could always tell her boyfriend, Joe. Joe would understand.

“Bill said security has been watching you on the cameras at work, and you’ve been acting weird lately.”

“Oh?” Michelle thought about her elaborate smoke break ritual and hoped she hadn’t done anything weirder than that, but how could she vouch for herself?

“When was the last time you took your meds?”

She balled up her fist at his intrusiveness, but couldn’t help but answer a direct question. She cocked her head. “I stopped going to see my nurse back in...maybe back in June after Mom and I got back from Atlanta, so that would have meant I had pills until August. So I must have stopped in August.”

“What?” Allen sighed. As if to a child, he said, “You’ve been off your medication since August? And now it’s the end of December.” His voice flattened and he stared straight ahead. “Why did you stop?”

His grip tightened on the steering wheel, his hands moving to the ten and two positions. Janet remained silent; perhaps she couldn’t hear their conversation.

“Shawn.” Michelle rolled her eyes. Shawn was her ex-boyfriend and uttering his name repulsed her. “Shawn and I had talked about the meds we were taking. I told him I didn’t have any side effects, and he said that meant my meds probably weren’t doing anything. If they’re not doing anything and I have no symptoms, then I don’t need them.” Michelle heaved back in her seat. “But maybe I do need them?” She looked out the window, desperate for something to focus on.

“Yeah.” Allen nodded. “You need them.” He sounded exasperated and sighed again. “We’ll go to your place and you’ll pack up a bag. You’ll stay the night with Mom.”

A swarm of random thoughts buzzed through Michelle’s mind. Emergency, me take room to the goddamn, but the thought wouldn’t unscramble before it collapsed back into the swarm and disappeared. She remained silent and unnerved with the buzzing thoughts until the mental hive quieted down.

“Michelle?” asked Allen.

“Take me to Joe.” He would be the only one to make her feel safe and he’d know just the right things to say and do.

“Have you told Joe about your condition?” Allen asked.

“Oh, um, actually, no.” She tucked her hair behind her ear, hating herself for acting sheepish. “Fine, I’ll pack a bag and stay at Mom’s place.”

Allen reacted exactly the way she feared he would. “You didn’t tell him yet? Didn’t he tell you about his mental illness? Doesn’t he have the same diagnosis you do?” Allen sounded incredulous. “Joe has been perfectly honest with you, Michelle. I think soon would be the time to tell him the truth.”

“I know,” she said, her thoughts racing ahead of her until there was nothing but static.

The sky shifted dreamily from crimson to violet to charcoal. Michelle imagined the sky as a slow motion flamenco dancer changing costumes. Allen’s car was stifling hot, the faint sandalwood becoming noxious. At the risk of angering him, she turned on the radio. Jimi Hendrix’s ‘Manic Depression’ came on, and the music tangled up inside her.

They pulled up outside Michelle’s apartment in a neighborhood in Hollywood that the cops willfully ignored. Getting out of Allen’s car felt like an escape, but his presence cloyed at her as he followed her inside her apartment. She haphazardly packed an overnight bag, unable to focus with Allen interrupting with suggestions. Her brother shook his head at the disaster she called home and excused himself back outside.

Janet smiled when Michelle loaded her bag in the backseat next to her. She smiled back weakly, dreading spending the night at her mother’s. She got back in the front passenger seat. A half hour later, they parked at the senior community residences where their mother lived in one apartment, and Allen and his wife lived on another floor.

Janet turned the key to the lock and Michelle’s spirits sank further. Inside, Michelle sat down in the recliner in the living room. She could see them in her peripheral vision stealing glances at her, and loathed the possibility that they’d launch into prayer. A shroud of loneliness and isolation sent her inward to her thoughts, but her thoughts skipped over disjointed memories out of time and context. No sooner did one feeling surface, another replaced it, until she had no idea what she felt.

Michelle started crying, feeling guilty about smoking. “I didn’t know smoking would be slavery. And all those liars and crooks who get kids hooked, I still buy cigarettes from them. I’m making them rich while I kill myself with their damned cigarettes! I’m helping them kill more kids.” She went quiet. Allen and Janet looked startled and mumbled to each other.

Suddenly, she burst out, “I thought Dad’s Parkinson’s was my fault!” Her arms shook. Allen and Janet each took hold of an arm and told her she wasn’t to blame. Michelle was surprised that that had come out of her mouth. She’d never felt guilty or responsible for her father’s Parkinson’s.

Her mental state continued flowing in and out of focus until midnight, when the Times Square ball dropped on TV. As fireworks exploded outside, she thought they were ghost canons from the American Revolution.

When Janet couldn’t stay awake any longer, she said, “Night, night. I’m off to bed. Can’t keep my eyes open another minute.”

“Mom,” said Michelle, getting up. “Lock your door.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t know what I’m capable of doing.” Michelle didn’t want a repeat of her last reality break, and she feared how far she might go and then not even remember. A monster lurked inside her.

“Oh, it’ll be all right. You won’t do anything.” Janet smiled and waved her hand.

Michelle and Allen looked at each other in disbelief. Aware that no one in her family did any research whatsoever on her diagnoses over the years, she still didn’t expect her mother to be this naïve.

“You can sleep downstairs at my place,” Allen said to Michelle.

She knew immediately that was a better option, though she wasn’t sure Allen’s wife, Annette, would be so welcoming with her in her current state. Behind her eyes buzzed with a vibration. Her mouth dry, she craved water again. Her memory flared up and vanished without a trace. She should have been alarmed at this.

“All right,” she said. “Good night, Mom.”

“Good night, darling.” They hugged each other and Janet smiled with a joyful expression that left Michelle disoriented. In the spare moments that she was lucid, she realized she dangled on the edge of reality again, but she had no medication with her. How was her mother so blissful? If she posed a mortal threat to Allen and Annette, how would they respond?

Downstairs in Allen’s apartment, Annette had already gone to bed. He sat up with Michelle in his living room, her mind periodically clouding over and she felt like sleeping, but she’d awaken with a start. This went on for hours. Allen offered a Jehovah’s Witness bible and suggested she read Proverbs since she liked Proverbs so much.

At four o’clock in the morning, he turned in and went to bed. Michelle prostrated herself on the floor, ready to surrender her life to Jesus. When nothing happened, she lost confidence that she’d ever find salvation or the real world. Her mental creatures laughed mockingly at her and took cover. She got back on the couch, stared at the lamp, and a fear of the dark came over her.

Left alone with a bible for company, Michelle remained frozen on the couch.

At six o’clock in the morning, Annette bustled from one room to the next and made smoothies for them both.

“You’re okay with me staying here for the night?” asked Michelle.

“We’re family. You’re welcome here,” said Annette. “How did you sleep?”

“I’m not sure.” Michelle didn’t want to answer anymore questions about anything at all.

Later, after Allen woke up, he said they needed to get their mother’s car from the hotel valet. He had a long to-do list. Michelle watched him, amused as he went back and forth from one room to another, thinking aloud. She gave him space, and he finally crafted a plan. She was never sure why she was the one who needed meds when everyone’s decision-making process seemed insane.

Allen finally organized his task list and cheerfully sat on the couch with Michelle. “Did you read any Proverbs last night?”

“I did,” Michelle said, earnestly, but then she sullened. “It set me off.”

“Sorry to hear that. What happened?”

“It’s hard to put into words. It’s like certain thoughts shut me down and I get cloudy.”

“Cloudy. Uh-huh.” He nodded.

“A fish will never discover water.” She wasn’t sure where she’d heard that.

Michelle assumed the twinkle in her brother’s eyes meant he understood she had a measure of self-awareness but the condition took her by surprise sometimes. There were things in her subconscious that even she wasn’t allowed to glimpse, let alone bring into the light of day. Creatures flitted through her mind, toying with her sanity, never letting her see them squarely. They knotted her stomach up in frustration, but they scared her, too. Not knowing herself or fully knowing herself were equally terrifying.

Allen started his tasks and Michelle spent the rest of the day trying to keep herself occupied, forgetting completely that she should have been at work.

That evening while Annette made dinner, Allen showed Michelle some videos from the Jehovah’s Witnesses. She was surprisingly open to watching them, given her deep-rooted animosity towards the organization. Janet stopped by and they ate dinner in the living room, as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

Michelle locked onto the idea that her other brother’s daughter, Renie, was coming from the Bronx to deliver a baby. Believing it to be a surprise, she kept it to herself. Allen asked her to pack up her bag so they could get going, and asked for the valet claim check for their mother’s car. She winked at him, assuming they were going to meet Renie at the airport.

Allen, Annette, Janet, and Michelle got into the yellow car, with Michelle seated up front. Driving down Hollywood Boulevard, she latched on to the belief that she could see phantoms and spectors, and it was her duty to root them out. She yelled out the window to a man standing outside a porn shop, “I can see you, motherfucker!” Ha, he thinks he’s invisible, but I can see him! Her vulgarity set her prudish family on edge.

Forgetting him, she thought again of Renie’s arrival. She turned around to Janet. “You afraid, Mom? It’s going to be a pleasant surprise. You have faith in Jehovah, right?” She uttered the name of God without appreciating the irony.

“Yes, I do.”

“So you’re not scared, right?”

“That’s right.”

“Okay, good, because I think you’re going to love this!”

When Allen pulled up to the emergency room, Michelle suspected nothing, thinking Renie must already be in delivery. But inside, the intake nurse asked her innumerable questions and drew a syringe. Her pulse quickened and her palms grew sweaty. She had no fear of needles, but her eyes dilated and her breathing sped up uncontrollably; a thought popped into her head that vampires didn’t need to fly around and bite people for blood anymore. Her mind connected real and imaginary dots, though she was unable to tell the difference. Vampires could get all the blood they wanted from hospitals, and the public suspected nothing! When it was evident she was being admitted, she looked desperately around the white room for an escape.

Allen took a step toward the door and thanked the nurse. He called to Annette that they could go get their mother’s car from the hotel.

“You’re leaving me here?! I trusted you!” she yelled at Allen. Her body burned with betrayal. “What did I do? I don’t want to stay here! You can’t just leave me here!”

Allen looked at her like she was hopeless. “You’ll be in my prayers,” he said and left.