I got a call this evening from a nephew I haven’t seen in over 20 years and haven’t heard from in at least 15.
Jay is the middle son of my younger brother who was killed in a car wreck 22 years ago, leaving behind a wife and 3 sons. Jay’s younger brother died a few years ago – severe adverse reaction to combined medications, according to the coroner – and his older brother lives with his little family in Okinawa. (this is important later)
After Jay’s dad died, his mom stayed in touch with us frequently, then less frequently after she remarried, and even less after my parents died, but we’ve always been on good terms with her and the boys, all happy to see each other whenever we see each other.
Anyway, I got this call; “Hey, Uncle Frank, this is Jay. How you doin’?”
“Holy [crap], Jay?? Well, I’m doin’ alright, son, how are you?”
“Oh, you know…life. I’m doing okay now. Had some rough patches with the divorce and everything, but I got some help, so things are starting to look up.”
“What do mean? What kind of help do you need? I’m always here for you, I hope you know that.”
That’s a pretty good start, right? I did feel a bit apprehensive getting a call out of the blue and one of the first words he says is “help,” but I remember Jay as a well-mannered kid and a very decent, ambitious young man – a clean cut, nerd-ishly intelligent guy with a goofy sense of humor, who always wore a shirt and tie to his college classes, and then to his job in the advanced tech field – so I did
not expect the surreal experience that phone call turned into.
First thing I noticed was that his conversation quickly became disjointed, suddenly shifting from one topic to another, going into a bunch of incomplete, confusing details about each one, all unrelated (from my perspective), and all in one long spiel that I can only describe as heightened in intensity as it diminished in credibility until it had no basis in reality.
And after the first several minutes, I thought, “This sounds like a manic episode.”
Jay babbled rapidly about some time in prison, a federal warrant, spying street lamps and drones following him everywhere, boxes and boxes of indispensible wires, and his ability to access every USB port within a 50-mile radius using an indestructible connector he found during one of his periods of homelessness. He knows the thing is indestructible because he pounded it with a hammer, then tried a hatchet, held it over a campfire, and soaked it overnight in a cup of water. After all that, it still connects him to all these USB ports and WiFi waves.
Oh yeah, he also mentioned eating mushrooms.
He said he recently discovered he can blink-communicate with those drones that are tracking him, but he can actually talk to the one named Miriam and her companion, Peter, who are actually spirits...but also aliens. They told Jay he is the second son of God, who is also an alien, and therefore Jay is the new Messiah. Jay reasons that, as the new Messiah whose Holy Father is an alien, he, himself, may be only half-alien, but he’s feelin’ 100% alien ever since Miriam and Peter told him who he really is.
Now, when he told me he occasionally does stand-up comedy on open-mic night at some Irish pub in Utah (over 1,000 miles from his home), I felt a rush of relief, even though I didn’t think anything he’d said up to that point was particularly funny. But then he immediately went on to say he also writes songs for a famous reggae band that also plays other kind of music, including Beethoven overtures, and
performs with them at that Irish pub in Utah, and that he’s writing a book that will be the manifesto of a new religion he created…and will lead…you know, as the new half-alien Messiah.
And he was dead serious.
There was a lot of other crazy-talk, too, but it was really hard to track. He said his ex-wife bought him a house, then he said
he bought it with his SNAP benefits; he said he kind of destroyed the attic room, then said his roommates did; said he got evicted from it, then said he sold it so now he’s homeless again and can’t contact his parole officer. But worst of all, no one helped him move those boxes and boxes of wires, which are the primary connection to his spiritual life, but also everything else.
I get why his wife divorced him after 17 years of marriage. And according to Jay, his sons stopped talking to him and his ex’s parents despise him. The feeling is mutual.
**Okay, quick background: all during the 80s, I was a licensed psychiatric technician, equivalent to today’s Physician Assistant, except in psychiatry. Psych Techs were invited to all staff meetings attended by the psychiatrists, therapists, and the director or administrator of the state mental hospital where I worked. I didn’t have nearly the same level of education as all those professionals, but at these meetings we learned a lot about the pathology of various mental illnesses, the causes, processes, development, and likely consequences, all openly discussed and our betters shared their knowledge very generously.**
Remembering all that plus what I learned in the required courses, I just let Jay talk, and I actively listened, remaining neutral, totally non-judgmental throughout the conversation, and when he paused after the Jesus-complex part, as calmly as asking "Do you have the time?" I asked, “Is it possible you’re mistaken, Jay? What made you certain that you were told you are the Messiah?”
His answer confirmed (for me) that his delusions are pathological, rather than subclinical, and if I’m right about that, it’s extremely unlikely he’ll benefit from psychotherapy, even with a professional clinician. Jay needs life-long medications to manage his symptoms, with monitoring for adjustments in dosages and temporary holds in a mental health facility as-needed for severe manic and depressive states. He needs permanent, on-going psychiatric care under the direction of a professional psychiatrist.
I’m about 100% certain Jay suffers from
psychopathological grandiose delusions with bizarre content.
I don’t know enough to say he’s schizophrenic, or bi-polar, but I’m reasonably sure the cause is external...specifically, habitual drug-abuse. Like I said, he mentioned mushrooms, but also rock, blues, bath salts, and “tons of weed.”
Basically, I think he’s cooked.
I couldn’t get a straight answer when I asked if he’s in treatment, so I don’t think he is. He said he’s being “managed” by a former house-mate who he’s still a little mad at bc he didn’t help move the many boxes of wires, but naturally he forgives him because “a Messiah has the choice to either forgive everyone, or end them. And, if you think about it, that’s the better choice because they are a better person when they are resurrected.”
He said that so cheerfully, it was even more disturbing hearing it than reading it just then. Obviously, I’m extremely worried.
I don't know who gave Jay my number, and no one’s answering the number he called from. I left a few texts and a voice message. His father died over 20yrs ago, his mother died 8yrs ago, no one I know lives in or near the state where he said he’s currently living, I don’t have his ex-wife’s number, don’t know her maiden name, and don’t know where she lives.
Jay got especially worked up during the last half of our 90 minute conversation, going on and on about how much he hates his former in-laws for ruining his marriage and turning his sons against him, and for putting “strange beliefs” about him in his ex-wife’s head. Notably, he said beliefs about him. That’s a big red flag, because whether he’s schizophrenic, bi-polar, or delusional due to drug-induced damage, the
about him part can trigger a violent reaction.
He was calm by the end of our conversation. I talked him down, told him all about the stray cats, that I named them and feed them and made little shelters for them, and, sort of blissfully, he said “Oh yes. That right there; that’s the sort of thing I want to do, Uncle Frank.”
And I told him I was very happy he called. I told him to call anytime he feels like talking, to take care of himself, be kind, and I love him.
I’m going to do a search of his name to see if I can find an arrest record or name of a prison. Ultimately, I’d like to get the name of his parole officer. I think that person should be notified, and Jay should be placed under monitored care, and his ex-wife should be advised to file an order of protection, if she hasn’t yet.
I don’t know what else I can do.
