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Psychotic breakdown

Friday – Meltdown at Midnight

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Things have been getting strange all over the city. It it either the season, or there is something in the water, or simply, sober folks are just throwing in the towel, much to the surprise of the rest of us.

Last week, my sponsor was out and about and two long standing members approached him in a restaurant. They were visibly intoxicated, or on some heavy drugs, because they were incoherent and could hardly speak words.

Here at my building …

I know several of my neighbors, because we’ve spoken or for some, I know them from the rooms. There is the parting glance in the elevator, but usually, no words have been spoken either way, outside of a meeting.

That all changed last night.

It was midnight, and I was talking to a sponsee on the phone, and my neighbor friend (read: From the Rooms) was banging on my door.

Let us set the tone for the story here …

If you have ever seen “The Beach” with Leonardo DeCaprio when the film opens and he is having a conversation with Daffy from room to room, while they share a joint, the lights are flashing and the guns are firing, Daffy is having a complete psychotic breakdown before he kills himself.

My friend was always soft spoken, and he never spoke an ill word to anyone in all the years that I have known him. He was freaking out and was totally out of character.

My friend was having a complete psychotic breakdown. He was bandaged up his arm and he was freaking out, like he was on something narcotic or he was tripping on something, liek I said, totally out of character for him.

He was sweating and flushed, shaking and almost incoherent. He lives a few floors down from me. He kept telling me he needed help and that I had to come now … well I hung up the phone and set off with my keys and no shoes.

Our elevators have video surveillance, and he says to me, we can’t take the elevator because someone is watching him, (read: nobody is monitoring the feed at midnight) so we take the stairs. We get to his apartment and he is camped out in the hallway, with a 12 pack of soda and his bike and all his things.

He begins to weave me a story, of what happened the night before, and begins telling me shit that I should probably not have heard, but he was speaking to me so I listened. I then asked him for his keys because he was locked out of his apartment, he says to me that someone has welded the door shut and he could not get in.

His keys were broken and bent, like they had been forced to turn in a lock further than needed and the keys bent and were unusable. So I thought, I’ll go downstairs and get the super to come open his door.

He is screaming that we can’t take the elevator, again …

11 flights of stairs later, we get to the ground floor, we wake the super, he had taken out his teeth, was in his slippers, and had been drinking, because he stank of beer. UGH !

We got him back upstairs, by the elevator going up, and figured out that the door had NOT been welded shut, that something happened to his keys, we left him in the hallway, while we searched his apartment for vandals or someone who was not authorized to be in there. It was a hoarders nightmare.

We got him into his apartment and I came home.

This morning I got up early and went down to talk to our manager, who is a friend. It seems this psychotic behavior has been going on for a while, because his neighbors on that floor are concerned for their safety, and that the cops indeed were here the previous night, and that this morning he was sitting in the hallway stark raving mad and naked…

Like I said, there must be something in the water, or people have just gone off the deep end.

Tomorrow I need to follow up on this mornings conversation.

He had never been up to this apartment, and I never told him in what unit I lived in before, but in his hour of need last night, he knew where to find me. He came upstairs instead of going to someone else. Not sure why he made that decision, but to think, that I am sober and could have helped him in some way.

Fucking Daffy Duck, Place of birth, Never Never Land …

There is a lot of confidential talking going on and I am doing my best to be present and accountable for my friends. Suffice to say that dead beat dads are a dime a dozen, and trying to get them to pay up their fair share is problematic. And that has been the challenge lately for a friend.

You can either do it voluntarily, or we take you to the cleaners…

It’s your choice buddy !

More to come, stay tuned…