Locust lane Park🌳

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Image of locust park signs in playground

At one point in the activation of my symptoms, particularly mania, I began driving endlessly and purposelessly, without general course or direction. Towards the more intense manic episodes, I would drive to self- soothe and unwind after spending 15 hour days on campus, in the library researching my paper contesting admission and overloaded with too many courses, I very much needed to escape to my own serenity to maintain the great pace I thought was required to fix the mess I created on campus. So, I drove, sometimes thinking of it as patrolling, I really got to know the outlying community. When i finally ran out of gas, I knew the bus routes so well I could get around without my car almost as well as with a personal vehicle. But back in the throes of it, I circled the state, driving manic loops from New York City to Buffalo.

Image of hotel lobby entrance by locust park

The entry is about the one voyage I made to Locust lane park. This moment was in my opinion, the turning point in my psychosis activating, the time when my reality truly became distorted, and the voices started to get loud. Back then though, I didn’t know I was hearing voices, I thought my environment was loud, either the radio or tv was on, and if I was in public, people were making noise and talking amongst themselves. The voices were loud but not obtrusive while I journeyed to locust park. It was hours of driving south into Pennsylvania before I even selected locust Park. Finally while I was driving I saw exit 69 and given I was also hyper sexual i laughed and pulled off the highway. Still driving, I followed signs to the colonies and thought I was visiting my land as the modern King George.

Pulling up to the park i realized this was the perfect place to rest, take pictures, and figure out a plan. I got out of the car and began arranging signs in my car. These weren’t signs or signals that made sense or would gain the attention needed to really help my situation. Instead, I placed coins, papers, and other office supplies in different positions to signal the world that I was here, ready to interact, watch& observe, fully aware of the world around me. The truth was I was so confused, disconnected, and out of it that I was walking around a closed park hundreds of miles from safety without plausible explanation. I walked around the park for a while, eventually realizing I needed rest, I drove to a nearby hotel.

I was arrested weeks earlier during course registration. I pulled up to a giant sign REGISTRATION and I thought something seemed right about staying at this hotel. My ideas of reference and circumstantial thinking we’re so intense almost everything seemed like it had hidden meaning. Checking in I heard noise from a balcony in the lobby. I thought it was the FBI or government following my travels and investigation on my loitering charge and abuse from the English department. That was when icons, religion, and history all collided. I began to hear, think about, and approach the world contingent on how new and emerging delusions chose to pull me into a distorted reality at its own misleading and arbitrary disposal. So, to cope with the added thoughts and louder mind, I used the bathtub to cool down my body and slow down my thoughts. That was that last time I took any medication. All I had left was random pills and they were all strewn about my bag and car floor. As soon as the voices softened, I slept, waking up to a new world, in my eyes only, for this living nightmare was only beginning to fully form and time yet before I would fully collapse.

Author Info:

J. Peters
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Empowering Recovery: Max E. Guttman’s Journey in Mental Health Advocacy

Max E. Guttman, owner of Mindful Living in NYC, is a Licensed Clinical Social Worker and advocate specializing in psychosis and schizoaffective disorders. Drawing from his lived experience with schizophrenia, he provides authentic, empathetic care, emphasizing humility and real progress in recovery.
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