Wolverine Experience

Opening chapter to my soon to be book MANIC Mike's Meditations

This story begins and ends at my parents’ house in Johns Creek, Georgia. A suburban bubble north of Atlanta. At a time between college and work the uncertainty principle smoldered in my mind. Future not yet set I could see limitless potential before me. The wisdom of Morpheus from The Matrix rang deep in my consciousness, “Sooner or later you’re going to realize just as I did, there is a difference between knowing the path and walking the path.” Favored pop culture references seemed to be clicking on all cylinders. Manic recall is incredibly powerful and makes a dangerous ally. A double-edged sword that can either swing advantageously or to one’s detriment. Wielded properly the brain on fire is a tool that may will itself out of the direst situations. Balancing on the tightrope of time, the maniac walks the line between paranoia and truth.

It was 2013 and arguments had reached a fever pitch that Friday in the MM household. With my father and siblings away for the weekend, I was trapped at home with mom. Stubborn and hot-tempered, mother and I have much in common. Raised voices shouted points neither of us could hear. While at each other’s throats she must have concluded that it was time for me to be committed. She had taken away my car keys earlier that week, so unable to flee the situation I eventually complied. I don’t know how she got me to cave but I know threats of the utmost magnitude were made to compel me. To get away from her, I figured any place would be better than where I was. Lord how I was wrong.

The car ride was starkly solemn as we rode in silence to my destiny. The Lakeview Behavioral Health Hospital was our destination in Peachtree Corners Georgia. Having no idea what to expect I was just happy for the quiet. Breaking the peace mother told me that she loved me and just wanted me to get help. I told her she needed help, promptly ending the conversation.

Checking in was easy enough as we sat in a small room for the preliminary interview. While walking through the entrance nothing yet stood out as good or bad about the building. It appeared to just be an office operated by those in scrubs. A young woman checked me in with a standard psych questionnaire. Interjecting frequently, mother made sure she got to paint the picture of my illness. After all the questions were answered it came time for the paperwork. It states here that by voluntarily checking him/herself in the patient may check themselves out at any time. I didn’t have a problem with that, so I signed on the dotted line. Ignorantly signing away my freedom.

Shuffled away from mother I left without a goodbye. Good riddance. While in the next intake room, I found it amusing to be patted down by an intimidatingly large orderly. What kind of place is this? With the sound of a buzzer the heavy white doors behind me locked. Interesting.

With the double doors behind me, I was prodded into a large narrow white room. The corridor stretched forty yards down where it elbowed left into a locked gate leading to the general psych population. Roughly ten yards wide I could see other patients muddling around in front of me. Less than a dozen of us in the room, they all looked the same; disheveled and burnt out. A woman sat in a chair to my right with her chest in her lap rocking up and down. The man immediately behind her walked in circles muttering to himself while waving his hands around like a rapper in a music video.  On my left was a row of empty small offices and past them, cut out of the wall, was the nurses’ station. On the right wall were windows with a view of the courtyard. Sun coming through reflecting off the white tile brightened an already over illuminated room. Fluorescent bulbs buzzing overhead, I took it all in.

The clothes I came in were a simple t-shirt and shorts, but I noticed the other patients in uniform wearing bright blue smocks. Obvious drug addicts by their mannerisms and demeanor, my manic mind quickly assessed the situation. Not one nurse or patient came to greet me after my two escorts exited. Left to my own devices I had no idea what was going on or what to expect. I felt panic begin to overtake me. I had been brought to the wrong place.

What I wouldn’t understand until my later Sierra Tucson days is that I was currently in the detox tank. A special room for close observation designed to anticipate general admittance. I beelined it to the nurse’s station where I calmly greeted the woman sitting there.

“What am I doing here?”

“You’re here for treatment.”

“Ok, but what am I doing in here?”

“Waiting for the doctor to see you.” She said as she rotated her chair away from me.

“Ok then…” I said out loud now to myself.

Taking a deep breath and walking away towards the windows I continued to assess my situation. The manic mind must stay occupied to remain calm, stagnation is death. Leaning my arm against the warm window I decided to focus on my breath. There must be someone in here to talk to.

I began to go around from patient to patient greeting them in my typical friendly manner.

“Hey I’m Mike, you uhh.. have any idea what’s going on here?”

“……..”Only blank eyes gazed back at me.

Uncomfortably moving to the next inmate, and then the next, I received every greeting but a coherent response. By my third vein attempt, a nurse screamed out,

“Hey! Quit bothering these people and mind yo own business!”

“Ok…?” I said in confusion. 

What the fuck is going on here?

I then walked up to that same “nurse” and asked if I could make a phone call. Reluctantly she said I could. After waiting for what felt like forever, she finally came out from behind the nursing station and walked over to one of the office doors. Fumbling with the keys she opened the door to a small conference room with a round table centerpiece. On the table, on the opposing side of the doorway sat a lone landline. Thank God.

I rang my mother and when she picked up I began pleading with her to come and get me. Saying how this isn’t the place we thought it was and that the people in here are essentially zombies.

“Tough shit.” Is effectively what she responded with and hung up. Wide-eyed in disbelief, the staffer snatched away the phone and pointed me out of the office. My phone a friend lifeline failed, now it was time for a new strategy. Before the nurse could make it back to the refuge of her counter station, I began to reason with her.

“When will I be able to see the doctor?”

“Not for some time.”

“Well, how long are we talking?”

“Look, the doctor isn’t even here right now.” She said.

“What...? Well, when will they be here?”

“…Not until Monday, now go sit down!”

It was at that moment that I remembered it was Friday.

“You mean I have to be here all weekend?”

“I’m done with this conversation.”

She then locked the door and walked back behind her desk. Following her I strongly stated.

“I would like to check myself out now.”

“You can’t check out until the doctor clears you.”

“No…I saw the paperwork and it said if I check myself in, I can check myself out.”

She then condescendingly explained that if I read the fine print, it somewhere states “…you can check yourself out only with the approval of a doctor.”

Furious I stormed away. How was I supposed to survive this prison for another two days? Back at the windowsill, I let my manic mind take over. It began by counting. Counting the trees outside, the lights overhead, the chairs, then the overwatch cameras, and the exits. The way I saw it there were three ways out. The steal double doors I came in, a lone heavy-set door in the back right corner, and the fenced gate which led to gen pop. I found myself pacing the floor scouting the facility’s defenses. When I was sure no one was watching I forcefully tugged at the entrance double doors. The bottom right corner bent toward me implying that if I pulled hard enough, I might be able to pry them open. Ok, option one is on the table.

  I then worked my way around to the back right heavy-set door that appeared to lead outside to the courtyard. With the same cautionary tug, I found it sealed shut. Damn, option two is a no-go. Directly behind me on the opposite side of the corridor was the mysterious gated fence that appeared to house other patients. Wading through the junkies and schizophrenics I reached the gate. Peering into the void with my fingers between the fence holes, I realized my greatest fear: this was a prison for the insane. What I saw was a row of cells down a hallway populated by convicts in blue jumpsuits. Another large orderly behind the fence quickly yelled for me to get back. Reluctantly I complied, shaking my head to hold back tears.

Back at my windowsill, fingers pressed firmly between my eyelids, I began to review the wealth of prison break movies I had seen. Most recently one with Arnold and Stallone. How had they done it and how would those characters escape here? First, identify your exits. Next start a riot. Lastly, use the chaos from said riot as a distraction to pose as a worker and walk out the front door. To get a uniform I’d have to either find a dressing room or knock someone out. Unfortunately, in the real world knocking a man out cold isn’t like in the movies. They either don’t stay down long, or they die. Factor in that leaving someone unconscious would only create greater trouble, as in real prison time. No, my break from here had to be clean and I didn’t want anyone chasing me once I made it outside. As much as I currently hated my situation, life on the lamb would only be worse.

I realized then that this institution had no legal grounds to hold me since it held no doctors. Locked up under false pretenses with an indefinite stay in front of me, I didn’t deserve to be here. How this place was operating was both unethical and immoral. Information that could prove useful when the law inevitably gets involved. With my half-baked plan ready to improvise it was time to make my move. If they wanted insane, I would show them insane.

Walking back to the lackadaisical “nurse” behind her cubby, I again asked to use the phone. Not to my surprise I was flat-out denied. Fine, I do what I want. Once she turned back around, I reached past the counter and grabbed the corded phone off her desk. Quickly dialing 911, it rang only once before the bitch snatched the phone away from me hanging it up. Dispatch would be calling back shortly to investigate. She gave me a look like I had just pulled a knife on her and started screaming out threats.

I then decided It was time for me to take charge of my situation, it was time to make a scene.

“This is fucking bullshit!” I shouted back, pointing at my now sworn enemy.

“You can’t hold us here like this and I’m going to sue this place into the ground once I’m out!”

Looking around I realized I had the room’s attention, all eyes on me. Manic recall then brought out my favorite Spartacus speech regarding freedom and tyranny. With heads nodding along in agreement, I then began to single out individual patients in the tank with me.

“You! Does your family know you are here?”

“No!” he shouted back.

The lady who was rocking in the chair now standing up.

“And you, why have they locked you in here?”

“No one will tell me!”

“Then let’s get the hell out of here!” I proclaimed.

Chairs were thrown and patients began to pull on doors. The riot had begun.

For the first time, the loudspeakers clicked on.

“We have a 2319 in section A, I repeat a 2319 in section A.”

Laughing to myself at the imaginary Monsters Inc. reference I continued to antagonize the crowd. I noticed behind the gated fence the gen pop inmates were starting to push forward joining in the commotion. Now what?

                Out of nowhere, a host of large orderlies in green scrubs swarmed the room. Ignoring me they began moving the other patients in the tank past the gated fence. One by one I lost my new allies and soon I found myself alone. With the nurses’ station evacuated I ran over to the front double doors. Manic energy gives rise to manic strength, and just like I planned I was able to force the door. To my surprise I found a group of five more green scrubs waiting for me on the other side rushing forward. Bouncing back to the middle of the tank I turned around to find another seven orderlies waiting for me. The entrance door again sealed; I was surrounded.

“Let me the fuck out of here!” I cried.

“You need to calm down.” Is the only response I heard.

                As they came at me, I used my football prowess to evade and juke. Screaming for help I continued to move amongst the corridor avoiding their grabs. At 6’3” and 215 lbs. I could see it in their eyes that I was going to be a formidable opponent. A crazy man who had been training in Muay Thai for the past several months, looking for a reason to use it.

                I didn’t know their intentions until I saw one of them pull out the needle. They were going to hold me down and stick me. Not today.

“Back the fuck up!” I screamed moving throughout the room. One behind me managed to grab me by my collar where I spun away stiff arming him to the ground. Moving to the center of the room I had gotten most of my aggressors in front of me.

“Ya’ll do not know who you are fucking with!” I yelled while ripping off my shirt.

“I know Mui Thai and I’m trained to kill.” I threatened while taking my fighting position. One leg cocked back while raising my fists to my cheeks. This was not a bluff.

“I don’t want to have to kill anybody, but I will if you make me.”

Nothing I said mattered to these men, they were going to take me down. I couldn’t scare them into compliance.

The dance continued like this for some time, keeping as far away as possible from the one with the needle. They are going to put me down and throw me in a padded room. Waking up in a strait jacket was my new great fear and I was not going to let that happen. Not allowing myself to get corned I moved throughout the corridor and noticed the nursing staff begin to show back up at the fringes of the altercation. That is when I saw her. The first face that met my eyes with sympathy rather than disdain.

Wearing pink poke doted scrubs this woman stood out amongst the rest of the green staff members that surrounded me. Walking calmly my way she asked,

“What is going on here?”

I briefly explained my situation while keeping my attention on the needle.

“I’m not supposed to be here.” I panted.

“My parents think I’m crazy but I’m not and these people won’t let me check myself out!”

“My name is Mary and I’m going to help you, ok?”

“How’s that?”

“Just come sit down with me so we can talk.”

                With the green scrubs standing down, I proceeded to walk with Mary to the opposite corner of the room. Sitting down with the entrance on my right and Mary in front of me, her worried expression allowed me to relax.

“Are you a doctor?” I asked.

“No, but I’m a nurse.

“Then what are they?” I said gesturing toward the two other women in the room.

“They’re just staff. How did you get here?”

I then proceeded to tell her my story. About my parents and how my mother had dropped me off here thinking it would help. I started to believe Mary was going to help get me out of there. She said she was going to help me by getting the on-call doctor in. If only we had made it that far.

                We continued our dialog for a few more minutes before my manic spidey senses began to tingle. Whipping my head around I caught the man with the needle silently sneaking up on me. Mary had just been a distraction. Heartbroken and betrayed I let her know how I felt and took my position back up in the middle of the corridor. When one of the green scrubs lunged at me, I quickly pushed him away moving to the other side of the room.

“That’s it, that was assault.” He shouted, “The cops are on their way.”

“Good!” I shouted.

“Not good, you’re the one who’s going to jail for assaulting me! And look at all my witnesses.”

A quick peak around confirmed, all heads were nodding in agreement with my accuser. It was going to be their word against mine and I was the crazy. After an ambiguously long amount of time running around, I finally felt defeated. It was in that brief moment that I was tackled from behind.

                Quickly bounding to one knee, there was no time to stand up as every orderly in the room dog-piled on top of me. Defeated and at the bottom of the pile I accepted my fate as a needle was slammed into my left arm. I could feel a rush of wariness enter me as they pulled the plunger away. As the struggle continued, I looked up and caught a look at Mary outside the pile standing in front of me. Her hands were on her face, audibly crying. Again, a needle hit my left arm. Hearing her crying erased any self-doubt that I was in the wrong. When the second needle hit a new surge of anger washed over me. Awake and pissed, I could see over my left shoulder that those bastards were going for a third shot of Haldol.

                At that moment between the second and third shot, I recalled a scene from The Matrix Reloaded where Neo was in a similar position dog piled on by Smiths.

“It is inevitable.” Smith smugly whispers to Neo at the bottom of the mound of struggling bodies.

Before that third Haldol hammer came down, I summoned all my manic forces and with my fiercest battle cry stood up throwing off the gang of green scrubs. Immediately to my right, I saw that someone had made a mistake and left the back heavy-set door open. Bolting for the exit I wasn’t going to let anyone catch me.

                Five feet past the door I ran full speed straight into a barricade. Looking left then right, both sides were fenced. This is a fucking cage. Realizing I was at a dead end I turned around to see the heavy-set door behind me slam shut. I was trapped. Looking through the small square on top of the door I saw a green scrub turn his back on me and walk away.

                Instinctively I began screaming for help. At the top of my lungs, I screamed. Stopping to catch my breath I felt a wave of weariness sweep over me. My adrenalin was starting to wear off and soon I would be down for the count. This was their plan all along, let me tire myself out in this cage and carry me to my padded cell later. Realizing I only had moments of consciousness left I had a recall of Jurassic Park. Velociraptors test the fences, and they never test the same spot twice.

                The fence to the right of the cage didn’t budge. Moving to the front center I violently shook. Pushing and pulling I felt a give in the metal. Looking up I saw a new gap between the wood ceiling and the chain-linked fence. The gap was only a few inches wide, and it was too high for me to reach. Looking toward the gap I noticed a small iron plumbing pipe below the ceiling hanging above me. Could I possibly reach it?

                Verticality had never been my strong suit. When tested for football my vertical was amongst the lowest on the team. With that said, I jumped the highest I ever had and reached the pipe. Grasping my hands tight I pulled up and swung my body horizontally to the ground and kicked at the front of the cage with all my might. Bouncing back off the front fence, I gained momentum with each kick. Again and again, I kicked until the gap between the ceiling and the fence grew to about a foot in length. Enough for me to possibly force myself through. Exhausted from the effort I hung limp to catch my breath. For a second I thought it prudent to drop back down and rest before attempting my final effort. I then envisioned the assholes inside watching me, working to grab me at a moment’s notice. 

                Recalling Olympic pole-vaulting techniques seen some time before, I summoned the rest of my strength for what I knew must be done. Pulling myself back up and in one motion I kicked my feet above my head and threw myself feet first through the gap. Arching my back as I flew, I made it through with my bare back scraping the sharp exposed top of the fence. Making my way back down to earth, I landed the nine-foot drop doing my best superhero pose. The sting of my bare feet meant one thing: freedom.

                Quickly composing myself I continued my escape toward the sidewalk path in the courtyard. Assuming the enemy was hot on my heels I didn’t look back as I ran to the edges of the compound. To my surprise, there was a twelve-foot-high concrete barrier surrounding me. Shit, I can’t climb that. I kept running looking for another source of escape and that’s when I saw it. The path I was on ended at a steel door thirty feet ahead of me.

                I then recalled information from some episode of Cops. The weakest point on any door is right at the handle. This was part of the breaching technique used when kicking down doors, aim for the lock. Not willing to stop, kicking the door wasn’t an option. Picking up speed I mentally prepared myself for what was going to happen next. I’m going to run through this door. Lowering my left shoulder, I aimed for where the lock meets the handle, and with a loud bang the steel door flew open, I was on the outside.

                Hurtling over some bushes I continued full speed downhill towards Peachtree Industrial Blvd. Reaching the edge of the six-lane highway I wasn’t ready to stop. With a quick look both ways and a red light with a crosswalk in front of me, I didn’t hesitate to continue my sprint across the highway. Paying no mind to the windowed stares from pedestrians and car goers witnessing a shirtless, bleeding, maniac bolt across the street away from the local insane asylum. In my mind, I had to get as far away from that place as possible. With no thought past the gas station on the other side, I just knew I needed to get there.

                Outside the station, pumping gas into his red truck was a man in his early twenties who forever changed my life. He must have been a local to the area as he knew where I had just come from. Bent over panting I struggled to catch my breath as I hit the pavement on all fours in the gas station lot. Like everyone else in the vicinity, he noticed me before I saw him.

Walking right over to me he said.

“Hey man, did you just break out of that place?” Pointing across the highway gesturing toward Lakeview.

“Yeah…” was all I could manage while still catching my breath.

“Holy shit dude! You look like fucking Wolverine!!”

“Thank you.” I said with tremendous pride realizing what I had just accomplished.

“You want me to call the cops?”

“Absolutely.”

Pulling out his phone, my new best friend turned his back to make the call. Now sitting on the curbside, I was finally starting to come to. Adrenaline still pumping I could feel it fighting their drugs in my body aimed to put me down. Shaking my head, I stood up to fight tiredness with anger.

“They’re on their way.” The blond man said.

“That is wonderful news. Dude, thank you so much for your help.”

“You got it bud; say you want a dip?”

“Absolutely.” I again responded.

Reaching for his back pocket he handed me the Grizzly can. Nothing at that moment sounded better. Snapping the can once I threw a baby’s fist of tobacco into my front lower lip.

“Thank you, sir. You are a gentleman and a scholar.”

“Anytime man”

We didn’t have to wait long for that first patrol car to show up. As the police officer walked up to me and began his investigation, I lost sight of my new friend. He probably stayed around to see cop car after cop car show up and knew I was in good hands. I don’t know when he left but I will be forever grateful for his contribution to my life, and I wonder how he tells the story.

When a mentally ill person is going through an episode there are moments of clarity that kick in and stick with you. I met a schizophrenic girl once who during her last episode thought a tree was an ATM machine. In the middle of an outdoor mall, venting her frustration she was obviously causing a scene. That is when a man walked up to her to help. Calmly explaining that the tree was in fact not an ATM, which was why her card wasn’t working. A simple but thoughtful explanation from a kind stranger brought my friend out of her rage and confusion. After helping her make a call to get a ride home my friend could only describe her savior as an angel. Angels have a tendency to fly in and make their mark, then exit the stage of your life forever. Never to be seen again, it is impossible for us to properly thank them. Angels have others’ best interest at heart, and the blond guy with the truck that day was my angel.

When the cops questioned me, they asked the same questions over and over again.

“Why were you in there? How did you get out?”

As I told them my brief version of what happened I mentioned that I played football at Such and Such School and that I had been training in Mui Thai. I figured it was pertinent information as my athleticism was the basis for how I was able to escape the grasp of that hell hole. The officers did a good job pretending they believed me. They asked,

“Did they do that to you in there? Pointing at my cut-up back.

“No that was from the fence I pole-vaulted over,” I responded.

It’s an unbelievable tale and I understood why I had to go through the same round of questions with each new officer that showed up. They wanted to see if I kept telling the same story. A truly insane person will keep making things up and eventually, the lies will catch up to them.

It must have been a slow crime day in Peachtree Corners because I counted a total of nine police cars around the Speedway gas station when it was all said and done. To my greatest satisfaction, I heard from out of one of the cop cars,

“Holy shit, he did play football at Such and Such School!”

Someone must have finally gotten to a computer. To them, this might have meant that if one part of my fantastical story was true, maybe the rest was as well. That’s when I saw those two bitch staffers walking across the street. I knew immediately that their intention was to bring me back. As the officers went over to talk to them, I made sure to yell out,

“Hey! They don’t have any doctors over there!”

                Turns out the maniac was right to escape and there was no legal obligation for me to go back. I saw a few officers walk back over to Lakeview, most likely to verify my story, with the now-defeated staffers. It wasn’t long until my mother showed up petrified at the situation she was now witness to. She finally knew what my rage was capable of. As the cops let me go, I got in the car with mother for another quiet ride home to Johns Creek. Finally safe I closed my eyes and slept.

Jesus was looking out for me that day at Lakeview. With the open door, broken fence, and weak steel door. I only made it out of there with his blessing and protection. The cops who took up for me when those two women had the gall to ask for me back, can’t thank them enough. There are many instances that turned in my favor that had no right to. My parents learned that they would do a little more research before sending me away next time.

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