Heroic Moments

Comet rode her bike up to Gemini’s backyard, where he was working on a project. The temperature was perfect, and it was a beautiful sunny day. He had not noticed her, so she politely interrupted his workmanship. He looked back briefly, but once he realized who was in his yard, his heart began to thump. Not again, he thought to himself as he slowly stood tall.

His facial expressions were a sign that his anxiety was creeping in, but Comet nervously assured him she would only be there for a moment.

Gemini eyed her up and down. As she spoke, he seemed to think this was the original Comet. The Comet, who was not speaking as if the world was on fire. She was calm, and this reflected upon Gemini.

“Gemini, please take this.” She said as she reached out with a book. Gemini instantly had a flashback to the last time she approached with a book. It was five years ago, and she went bananas in his yard. Fear grew as he brushed the book back to her this time. Why was she doing this to him again?

There was a brief moment when their eyes connected, but Comet quickly pulled the gaze away. She had grown too embarrassed to discuss anything further. This was the reason for the book: to save her from the explanation, because she couldn’t find her voice. But she found the will to express herself through these pages.

Gemini was still determining if she was okay, but Comet didn't have time for the analysis. Comet gave a final shove of the book towards Gemini, letting the unreceived book fall to the ground as she pedalled away on her bike.

Gemini looked down at the book, then back at Comet, but she disappeared as quickly as she had arrived.

Gemini was bewildered by the interaction as he carried the book inside. He plopped it down on his table and sat pondering. She had been left in his past as they hadn’t spoken in years, and for her to try to hand this book to him felt uncanny.

Curiosity got the better of him, though, and he pulled the book closer. There on the cover were the words, ‘Two Pals’. This brought him back to the time when they first met. They were in a two-week course together, sharing thoughts about business, friendship, and everything in between.

He knew the two words were in reference to them and an agreement they once made. They had somehow formally agreed to be pals one sunny afternoon nearly seven years ago. Yet they had the most inconceivable falling out.

Seven years ago, Comet stopped talking to him, and he to her. They would chatter about everything, and then nothing. It was the weirdest thing. He thought he had done something wrong, and Comet seemed unaware of any problem at all.

Fast forward a couple of years, then out of the blue, she appeared in his yard. She seemed off-kilter to him. Part of him wanted to yell at her for cutting off communication with him so long ago. Another part of him wanted her to disappear, which he expressed by telling her to leave his property. He was so confused. Why did she seem so bewildered?

When Comet saw Gemini with that facial expression after he requested her to leave, the one where part of the skin shows dimples and twitches, this caught her completely off guard. Only her brother had behaved like this with her. Normally, her brother would either tear up or hysterically laugh when pushed to this extreme. Gemini did neither. He disappeared.

Comet thought he had telepathically requested her presence there on that May the Fourth. She was having delusions of grandeur that felt so real. Her mind thought Gemini was going to help her save the world or be a superhero as part of the force, so she tracked him down like a hunting dog.

But the only force she saw with him was the police force he called in to capture her and swoop her away to the Emergency Room and later the Mental Institute. Comet had been diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder a few months earlier, and Gemini found out under the wildest circumstances.

Okay, it wasn't really a capture. Comet was lucky to have social workers supporting her, and they were brought on-site as a result of someone dialing for help. They were always there for her when she needed them most. Comet thought that by coming to Gemini's house, she was looking for a more fictional superhero to save the day, but the whole interaction was a real-world moment of heroism by everyone. Gemini called the cops. Heroic. The cops brought social workers. Genius. Then Comet did her thing. Unimaginable.

Comet turned that backyard into a full-blown live performance. She sang and carried on wildly. Her grand finale whistle was straight out of ancient Greek mythology, most certainly, or at least Comet thought. Because that is what it feels like to be in a manic episode.

The social workers and cops let Comet have her voice when she needed it most. One cannot truly understand what it is like to lose one's mind to mental illness, not unless it has happened to oneself or someone close.

There was a long pause after her whistle. Comet reached for the deepest breath she ever grabbed in her life. The police gave a fair amount of silence before asking her if she was done. Comet shook her head in agreement.

As Gemini sat with his head in his hands all those years later, he pondered why it took Comet so long to reconnect. Years ago, he thought Comet was cool. Then there was the delusional Comet that he thought was the stalker Comet. Finally, the cops and social workers showed him the mental illness side.

It took five years for Comet to reach back out after the madness, but even then, she could not face the reality. Other than this book. Finally, a message in this bound book.

Gemini clutched the little book with both hands. He could not imagine what was written on these pages. They had such a brief encounter of friendship during those two weeks, then the most peculiar moments of insanity.

He began rubbing his fingers over the artwork on the cover. He knew she had created it because that’s who she was. Two silhouetted people were walking with their arms crossed over each other's shoulders, into the sunset of oranges, pinks, and purples.

Could they rekindle their once-friendship? They had been pals before. He focused on the book again. There was an elastic band wrapped around it to enclose its secrets. He snapped it a few times as he stared off in space. Finally, he removed the elastic to open the pages.

Comet had painted the front page. Then colored the next page. Pen and inked the next. Sometimes colorful, sometimes more colorful. Words would appear from memories. Memories of their friendship. Memories of the madness.

Each page had something of interest to Gemini. He took his time as he flipped the pages. Sometimes he would laugh at a funny quip from their past discussions, like the time when he corrected her that the correct phrase was bat shit crazy, not mad shit crazy—the irony there he thought. Occasionally, a page would detail one of her grand delusions and how he fit into the puzzle.

For Gemini, it was a representation of who Gemini was to Comet. But more importantly, a representation of Mental Illness. It is hard to picture yourself amid someone’s delusions of grandeur, but that was exactly where Gemini had found himself. He felt clueless about what to do at so many moments, but Comet showed him through this book how lost she was within it all, too.

Comet felt helpless about this situation for all those years, but she had finally grown the confidence to believe in herself regarding the wildest chapter of her life. And that chapter couldn’t be told through one little message.

As Gemini approached the end of the book, he was surprised to find something more. On the inside of the back cover was an envelope with his name on it.

He peeled the envelope open.

Dear Gemini,

Firstly, I’m sorry about all the weirdness that’s happened between us. I have wanted to talk to you about this for years now, but it is really odd. Perhaps this is a selfish gift, as I have tried to put this past me, but I feel this ended on the wrong note. I could be wrong, but I don’t think you wanted our last interaction in this great big world to involve me fleeing from the cops and your house on my bicycle. As awful as that sounds, I must brag, they may’ve nabbed me once on your property, but I’ll be damned if they catch me twice!

I’m sort of sorry I stalked you every time I was in my manic state. I cannot explain it. I only say I am partially sorry because part of me thinks, well, maybe this was good for you. I know being Bipolar was good for me. I learned about something that’s so misunderstood. Perhaps you did too.

I thought you and I were going to save the world in many different ways in my madness. I thought you were going to be a superhero with me. However, you never seemed to want to join forces with me. In fact, you called the force in on me a couple of times, which I cannot thank you enough for doing. You were the snitch of the year in my book back then! And ironically, that call was heroism, by both you and them. I now have much respect for social workers and the jobs they do.

I really thought you were the guy I had met at Woodstock 1999. I hope that did not offend you, but I swear I met your doppledanger long ago. It took me years, therapy, and psychotherapy to finally get that idea out of my head. I cannot emphasize enough how many times my psychotherapist struggled with me on this topic. I wish we had a greater understanding of the brain so I could selfishly go inside my own and figure this all out. But like so many other things, this will likely remain a mystery to me forever.

I was mindblown at how I recalled Woodstock completely differently before my mental illness. Perhaps it was simply thoughts forgotten, but I theorize it’s because I was on psilocybin at Woodstock, which is a similar state of mind to being manic. I realize I’m making some assumptions about these past experiences being linked, and it really does sound a bit bizarre. Therapists tell me I likely have my stories and memories jumbled, and perhaps they are right.

But one thing I cannot deny is this. The Woodstock guy I met once upon a time was one of the most influential people in my life because he told me to do smart things. Things I can never pinpoint back to anyone but him. And those things are the very same things you tell people to do. While I may have had the two of you mixed up, I learned h it feels to have listened to an all-star in my life. I know I cannot tell the Woodstock dude of the impact he had on me, but there is still time to tell you that I know of the awesome impact you have on others. You have done so much for so many, and it is a pleasure for me to say I was your pal once upon a time.

Comet

After some time, Gemini slowly put the letter aside. His eyes fell shut as he closed the book.