May this be a lesson to all. Unless you’re a ninja, gymnast or MacGyver, if you should be handcuffed behind your back, DO NOT try to get your hands out in front of you by trying to pull them up and over your legs and feet. You will only find yourself upside down on the floor of the police car with the officers belly-laughing at you. They might even take pictures.
This happened to me in October of 2010. I had been undergoing ECT treatments for several months and I was feeling good. My employer had laid me off in September and I was looking for a new job. I talked with a guy I met through work, who worked for another company but we were on the same project. He arranged for me to talk with someone in his company and after several conversations with his hiring department I eventually set up an interview.
The meetings were scheduled to last a whole Friday. I went out and bought a new suit and crammed for the types of questions I expected to have thrown at me. I was very nervous for a few days and hadn’t been sleeping very well. When that Friday rolled around I arrived early for my day of examinations. I was relaxed and felt comfortable in the first meeting but as the day went on I could feel myself tightening up. As the meetings became more intense I was getting more uncomfortable. By the time I got to the last one I was just a ball of nerves inside but, I held it together for another 40 minutes or so. When we were done, I was asked to wait in the reception area for a little while. After about 20 minutes, the gentleman I had met last came out and told me “We just don’t think you’re a fit with us. Thank you for interviewing”.
The only other time I had felt so demolished was when I was told I had cancer. Still, I kept myself together, thanked the man for meeting with me and left the building. I drove straight home and took off the suit. Then events get a blurry. My parents had been staying with me this whole time but they were in Northern California for my mom’s high school reunion. I was home by myself, feeling very distraught. That is when my first “mini-break” happened.
I do not recall as to whether my encounter with the police was on Friday or Saturday night but I know that they detained me on the sidewalk across the street from my apartment and called an ambulance to take me to the emergency room. I’m still not sure who called the police on me but I have my suspicions. I’m also not sure as to why they were called. It will probably always be a mystery. It was while I waited for the ambulance that I tried the amazing handcuff trick and failed.
After I was released from the hospital, I assume I took a cab home, I got in touch with my father and they cut their trip short and raced back to San Diego. He told me not to leave the apartment again.
After they returned, an emergency ECT appointment was made. After telling the doctor about everything that happened and all the circumstances surrounding the “break” he pronounced my psychotic episode as “The Perfect Storm.” The stress and big disappointment with the job interview coupled with the absence of my support system and a few nights with little or no sleep, was all that was necessary to push me over the edge.
These days I make sure I get good night’s sleep and keep tabs on the support system I’ve built. I’m getting more and more independent and feeling safer and safer in my own skin.