Institutions and Institutionalization
Institutions of higher learning provide such a plethora of potential for the personal perusal of possibilities in the paradigms of perspectives. In the second year of school I had changed my major from pre-med to psychology with a religion minor. I wanted to find out more about the connection between God and man, and the variety of ways that ones have journeyed in order to realize their own connections. Quite often, I found this to be the foundation of many religions. Someone had journeyed within themselves and found a way to express their connective tissue so that others might get a glimpse of the profound peace it brings. Well, that has often also been turned into credos and memos of understanding between wealthy individuals that desired domination of the population.
School went okay for the first quarter, as I reacquainted myself with friends and the campus. My familiar partner in spiritual exploration was not present, though. He was about 2,000 miles away in northern Canada with his grandfather, staying in a cabin with no modern conveniences. I had called his parents a few times to inquire when he would be returning. They knew he would be back for winter quarter, just not the specific day. I returned from a date one Saturday morning and proceeded to test my telepathic ability a bit further. I plugged in a tape by White Witch to a song called 'Help Me Lord.' It was quite spacey so I thought it would help set the tone. I laid down, closed my eyes, and began to picture his face in my mind's eye. It didn't take long and I peered into his eyes for a moment, then imagined grabbing him by the shoulders and standing him up so that I could see his whole body.
It seemed to work as I felt a 'normal' connection as we discussed a few things about his timeliness of return and a mutual girlfriend as well. She entered the conversational atmosphere as easily as we were talking with each other at the time. The threesome continued for the duration of the song and as it completed, I felt it was time to disconnect as well. I returned to the room and opened my eyes, going about he normal business of preparing for bedtime. The following week was pretty normal and I decided to call his house on Friday evening to see if his parents had heard from him yet. To my amazement, he answered the phone slightly out of breath. He had just pulled into the driveway when I called and knowing it was me on the phone, he ran in to answer it straightaway. We spoke for a bit and decided I'd join him in a couple of hours.
Upon arrival, I talked with his parents for a short time regarding his trip and the advantages of being out in the wilderness for the summer. We got in my car to leave and I asked him a rather open question to probe. "Did you catch any flack last weekend?" I said. He looked at me square in the eyes and said, "Yeah, you SOB... you woke me! I was laying in bed asleep and woke up to someone grabbing me by the shoulders and sitting me up in bed. I opened my eyes and your face was right in front of me. Carolyn's face (our mutual friend of the year before) was right behind yours. We talked for a few and then you two split. I don't remember what we talked about. It was pretty bizarre!" I then told him what I'd done and we both just sat there wide-eyed and awed by the experience. About a week later, he got a postcard from Carolyn. All it had was an address circled (a Krishna camp location in California) and at the bottom was written... 'Enjoyed the conversation.' Nothing else was on the card at all. Neither one of us had heard from her since the end of spring quarter, some five months past.
Shortly thereafter, I bought a couple of drum sets and put them together as one in my dorm room. Of course, I didn't tell my parents and had used half of my room and board money for school to pay for them. This meant that I had to move out of the dorm over winter break. I found a house south of town that I could live in for free. It had no heat and no running water although the electricity was on an I figured I could use some quilts and baseboard heaters to prepare one of the rooms. There was another couple living there already. They stayed for a couple more weeks. I had all my stuff, drums, stereo, clothes, etc., and a jar of peanut butter and jelly swirl along with a loaf of bread. Needless to say I needed a support network to make it through this transition. I had no idea how it was going to happen. It was quite an interesting production indeed.
I joined some friends at an Apple Scruffs meeting (Beatles fan club) to watch the monthly movies shown in one of the lecture halls on campus. There was about 150 people in the 250 seat auditorium. After the movies, A Hard Day's Night and Yellow Submarine, I was prompted to go down to the front of the room and introduce myself as Billy Shears. Beatle's fans know who that is... to the rest of you He was the fictitious leader of Sargeant Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band. I thought it would be a great way to invoke a support group, even though I knew I was only acting as if I were him. When I walked down and actually did introduce myself as Billy Shears, there were several guys in the front row that started crying immediately. Must have been some good acid.
Afterward, a group of people assembled around me and I explained my situation. I needed some help with food, a place to shower and occasionally a place to crash. I found everything I needed and more, at least for a short time. It worked to perfection. The only reason it did not continue was because I was committed the following week by my parents. I was assaulted at a frat house late one night, after playing pool for several hours with a friend in the basement of the Sig Eps frat house. One of the jocks didn't like my being there and literally picked me up and threw me up a stairwell from a below ground side entrance to the house, yelling that if I came back he'd kill me. Well, I needed my coat and hat (it was 77 below zero wind chill factor that night) and snuck in the front door to find it. He saw me and repeated his previous motions, this time following me up the stairs and striking me in the parking lot. I backed away from him and fell into the snow. As he was about ready to strike me again, someone grabbed his arm and pulled him off of me. It was a campus policeman. Whew!
My eyebrow was cut and needed stitches so they took me to the hospital, after retrieving my coat and hat. While there, I found out that the dean of admissions (a person friend of dad's) was watching out for me. Dad had told him that I was on the edge and may be needing some care soon. I tried to talk with him a bit even though I could tell he was more than just a bit upset. Heck, it was 3 am by this time. I'd be angry too. Dad showed up about a half hour later and rather than being able to leave, he advised me that I needed to stay there for a bit. I thought with a blow to the head, overnight observation might be in order so I did not resist. What soon became apparent was that it would be for some time longer. A couple of orderlies escorted me onto an elevator and to the seventh floor, where there was a very large black man 'guarding' a door. I knew I was in trouble then. His first words were, "Ah, got another one for me, eh?"
Shortly thereafter, my shoes, belt, necklace and pants were removed, I was given two shots (one in each cheek), and the next thing I knew I woke up hours later. I had no idea what time or day it was at that point. I spoke to a doctor briefly, who then prescribed 2,000ml of thorazine (500ml 4 times a day) and diagnosed me as a manic depressive schizophrenic after explaining my 'acting' as Billy Shears. As much as I attempted to explain the logic of my actions, he wasn't buyin' it. Not until a few weeks later, when I finally decided that I'd start telling him what he wanted to hear, did I have any 'success' in my treatment. All of a sudden I had a 'miracle' cure and was release a couple of weeks later, still on some massive doses of thorazine and 50 pounds heavier. I looked like a blimp at that point. I was a bit emaciated when I went in (125 lbs.) but the 175 lbs. I carried when I left was 30 lbs. over my normal weight. It came off in time.
The result of all of this was my self-esteem was destroyed. I would shake on the inside when I'd talk to people, for fear of rejection or misunderstanding I guess. Over time, through years of focused work, I gradually rose back into the person I knew before the brief hospital visit. I liked that person a lot and so did everyone else. I'd been performing in high school activities in front of several thousand, even putting on a solo trampoline act for half-time of our basketball games, so I was used to being in front of many without much of a problem. I was determined to rise again, just like the Phoenix, and fulfill my destiny as was told to me in and beyond the White Light. Little did I know that I would soon be living in Phoenix, Arizona.