Onset - Pt 3

The more I read, the more certain patterns began to appear: rapid cycling from euphoria to despair, disproportionate anger in response to slights, a loss at times of a sense of boundaries. Re the latter, for example, here’s my entry concerning a live broadcast of the high school quiz show In the Know, in which I was a contestant:

25 January, 11:20 p.m. . . .We lost by 180-125. I did well; I think everybody did, but there was one fellow on the other team who was really very good; he accounted for almost all their pointage. At halftime I included “failing French II my junior year” when listing my accomplishments; afterward a girl approached me and asked, “You said you failed French. How come?”
“How come I failed, or how come I said it?”
“Both.”
“Well,” I smiled, “I failed French ‘cause I didn’t study, and I said because it was a hell of a thing to say.”
B--- C--- & the old 1st team were there; B--- tried to console me but I didn’t need consoling. “I enjoyed myself. It was probably the most enjoyable game I’ve played.”

By February I am having trouble sleeping--up all night and having to sack in half the day to make up for it. I begin to take long, restless evening walks.

10 February, 2:34 p.m. - I permitted myself to sleep late yesterday, intending so far as possible to go easy on myself and insure I wouldn’t get fatigued . . . Worked 4:45-9:15, closed. Once home I watched “Rollerball” on TV, then abruptly set out on a long run that carried me [a distance of about 4 miles] before a police cruiser pulled up in front of me. The cop asked me where I was going, I explained, briefly, whereupon he told me to go back home. I was angered but wanted no trouble, and so complied. I spent several long moments up among the apartments where Sharon [a former girl friend--not her real name] lives, staring at that hillside and at the cold gleaming stars. It was a mistake for me to do this, because it thrust me almost immediately into a violent spasm of confused despair. Running back to the house I noticed that everything looked strangely alien, as if I were on another planet. Flashing automobiles looked futuristic, the dawn-like glow of the city gave me the impression I was light-years from home. A blood moon was out, hanging dully on the horizon, oval and hazy. The telephone poles looked like crucifixes. I could almost see men nailed upon them. Mighty weird.

Prologue - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5