It was June 13, 2019 and I woke up and went out to the kitchen and said three words that turned out to be magic, “Alexa play music.” Music started blasting and it was as if each word was specifically crafted for me. The music was speaking to me and was speaking about me. Song after song I could create connections to myself and the world around me. Actions I would make would coincide with the lyrics playing over the Amazon Echo. It was pure magic and pure fun. It wasn’t just one song I could create connections to, it was every single song that came up. Coincidence? No way. This was the start of something way bigger.

I had a large poster of my first book cover above my Amazon Echo that read “Well… I Guess I’m Not Jesus.” It should have been a reminder that this was just another manic episode but I took the words “I Guess” and thought to myself that I was never definitive about the fact that I may or may not be Jesus. So I quickly came to the conclusion that this was showing me that I was in fact the second coming of Jesus Christ.

I heard the signs in the music. They could direct me, lead me to where I was going to know all the answers this time. This would be the absolute truth that would show once and for all that I was Jesus to the world. But how would I prove that? I didn’t have answers to that question yet. I thought maybe certain people just already knew. Just like the musicians that wrote these songs that fueled my manic thoughts.

This time around, I did not want to end up psych ward bound so I stayed silent. Such a dangerous thing to do when you’re manic. Especially, since last time I stayed silent I got behind the wheel of my car and crashed it going 120 MPH in the snow leaving myself paralyzed. But silent I stayed for a month. I just rode the mania the whole time. I used what little bit of credit I had to buy as much as I could. I blew money on my friends. I gave tremendous amounts of money to homeless people. I burned through money like I was made of gold.

Delusional for over a month, no one knew except for those around me with a keen suspicion that I was acting strange. I was doing some things out of the ordinary that raised suspicion but nothing to sound the alarm. Towards the end of the month though things got bad and within one week the cops showed up at my door four times. Somehow though I was always able to convince them that it was a false alarm.

Eventually, my mom got word of my unusual behavior and my parents came to Columbus with the plan of getting me psychiatric help. I became furious they wanted to send me to the psych ward for the second time in my life. It got to the point that I got so angry that my mom called 911 and told them that I was suicidal which meant an immediate trip to the psych ward.

I reached the stress management floor, which was the least restrictive part of the psych ward. As you went up a level in the building the floors became more and more intensive for the psychiatric patients. I didn’t think they would be able to accommodate me in a psych ward with me being paralyzed, but they actually made really good accommodations.

When I first got there I noticed that some people were playing on tablets watching YouTube, and doing other activities, and I wondered how I could get my hands on one of them. I needed the music and the videos to fuel my manic thoughts and drive me towards my destination wherever that might be. I asked one of the patients how they got the tablet and they said they had a prescription for one.

It was the weekend but I was still to see the psychiatrist who was going to be different than my regular psychiatrist. When the psychiatrist came into my room I explained to him that music therapy worked very well for me and it was comforting to me. I asked him if I could get a prescription for a tablet. Little did he know that music was what fueled my manic thoughts. The doctor prescribing me a tablet that I could use at anytime I wanted to, was the first step towards hindering my stability and getting me out of there with a clean head.

One of the first things I did after breakfast was I went to the library and looked for a copy of the Bible. There were multiple copies so I looked over them carefully at the different versions and picked the one in my head that I believed to be most true. When I took it back to my room I immediately turned to Revelations. I thought with me coming back as the Savior it meant that we were in the end of times and that I had an ultimate purpose. I just needed to find out what the purpose was. I knew it was there in Revelations.

I went onto the floor and I met one lady that said she was Mary Magdalene and she explained to me all the sexual things she used to do. She explained to me that she was the mother of Taylor Swift except she said they never had been united. She said she gave birth to her but right away she went with another mother. She told me that Taylor would date me but it would have to wait until I got back on my feet and I could dance with her. This is when I first started thinking about walking again. Walking would prove to the world that I really was the Savior they were all waiting for. But when would this be?

I instantly made connections like how my bracelet showed and marked me as Jesus. It was just a bracelet I had been wearing that had Saints on it but to me it was sacred. One of the first people that I talked to was a younger guy and right away his wrist caught my eye. He was wearing the same bracelet as me except his was in color. I introduced myself and, since he was wearing two of these bracelets, I asked him if he wanted to make a trade for my black and white one which he agreed. This one had a man on it with blonde hair that I thought was me as well as the Saints.

As I went about my days, I would meet different people and I thought they served different purposes for my story. I was starting to think that most of them were actors cast in the story of the Second Coming. There was one man that would not say a word to me that upon his discharge said that he had something for me to say.

He told me about an accident that he had where he crashed his Corvette many years back and he died at the scene. He said that he couldn’t move anything until it got to the point where the only thing that he couldn’t move was his arm. He said his arm slowly started to return, but not without terrible nerve pain. He said the pain was unbearable but he gave me one hint of advice and he said when everything comes back use hot water. He said hot water is the only thing that will make the pain feel better. I further thought this was a sign that he knew that I was going to walk again, but it was just a matter of time. He was just preparing me for that day.

As I started to meet more and more people, I started to classify people into angels and other groups of people. Taylor’s “mom“ told me that there were people that I had to be careful of because some people are evil like witches and other demonic forces. That same day, I met a girl and I complimented her on her tattoos and asked her what they meant. She said she used to practice witchcraft and they were tattoos from that. I quickly distanced myself from this person as I felt it was unsafe to be around her. I also thought these angels were trying to protect me.

As for the nonbelievers, I thought it was my duty to convince them that I was the second coming of Jesus Christ. I would wake up around 5 AM and go out into the hallway where I would find different patients in the sitting areas that were struggling to sleep. I would bring my tablet with me and start to show them videos and songs and explain to them how they meant that I was the second coming of Jesus Christ. To me I thought they believed every word and, to my disbelief, many did. Or at least they said they did. You have to understand that I was on the psychiatric floor and these people are unstable and vulnerable. Little did I know that I would soon would have a following. This only fueled my manic thoughts more.

After dinner one evening I was talking to a younger guy and showing him videos of how everything related back to me being Jesus. He started to buy into it a little bit and explained it to his friend who thought it was crazy. That night he went to sleep on a beanbag in the lobby. In the morning he was still sleeping on the beanbag and I went over there and sat there as he awoke.

When he woke up he told me that he saw heaven and that I was there. He said that everyone was given a giant house with like 100 rooms. He said everything was white and it truly was like paradise. He said outside of the house he saw some of the most beautiful things. This vision that he had in his dream further reinforced to me that I was the second coming.

Later on in my stay an older lady that spoke Spanish arrived. She did not speak a bit of English. Taylor‘s “mom” told me that she was Bruno Mars grandmother, which I believed. She would call me Jesus (“hey-Zeus”) and it really messed with my head. She constantly would massage my left hand which I thought she was going to heal me. One day she was drawing and she wrote the number 215 on a piece of paper, which was just the room number on the wall. Then she drew a stick figure of someone walking. After that she took the one and made a dark line through it and said to me, “Dos Cinco”. This meant “2 | 5″” and with the line in the middle of the numbers it looked like a date. Instantly, I thought this meant that I was going to walk on February 5, 2020.

A few days before I was released there was a lady that was being discharged that I had helped by listening to some of her struggles in the week prior. When she was being discharged she was dressed up and happy and seemed like a completely transformed person. I thought she was one of the “angels,” so I asked her if she was in on everything. She told me she had known since the beginning and a lot of them were a part of it. This further drove me into complete insanity. Then she began to cry and said she was going to miss me.

It took 2 1/2 weeks before I was discharged and declared stable enough to go home. I was not at all stable at this point, but my parents had a plan to take me home with them and I had no idea. Right before I left the psych ward I went to the lobby and sitting around in a circle was every person that I thought was an angel. To me this proved that I was right but really it was just the people that I was close to during my stay that wanted to say goodbye. I then went home to my apartment and immediately got in my recliner.

As I sat in my recliner, my brothers and parents, to my surprise, started to clear everything out of my apartment. I could do nothing physically to stop them as they told me my only option was to move home. I’ll never forget the drive home from Columbus after being there for 14 years. It was a sad way to end that chapter of my life. But now it was time to start a new chapter and I was fighting for my life to get my mind back.

Getting my mind back was not easy. It took group therapy, individual therapy with a counselor, meeting with a psychologist once a week to decipher reality, psychiatry, and medication. It also took the right people around me. I found someone that loved me for who I was and let me confide in her. She asked the right questions to steer my mind in the right direction. It took an army of family and friends and it took me putting in a lot of work. My whole focus was on my mental health and my life revolved around it. It took me promising that I was going to be open about my thoughts and beliefs no matter what.

Stability is tough to come by when you’re bipolar and you go through a manic episode. I’m lucky I got my mind back and I have promised myself since I found stability that from that day forward I would do everything possible to maintain my mind and hold on to my stability. I would never go off my medications and I have people in place to make sure that I take them every night. I still meet with a psychologist once a week to check in. My bipolar has been in remission for two years now and I attribute stability to all of the people that have helped me fight this fight.

So that’s what happened to me. That is why I left Columbus to live with family. But it’s also why I fell in love, bought a home, and settled down. Today I’m happy and more than anything I’m stable. I used to say in my presentations, but I will say it again now. The mind is much more powerful than the body. That is something I will believe now and forever. Hold onto your mind and if you struggle always fight to get it back. It’s never too late to give up hope.


  1. Thanks Adam for sharing and being so “up front” with your experiences. You have a loving family and I hope your story will help others with bi-polar. I’m so happy you have come so far. God Bless

  2. Adam! You already know this…you’re my hero! I wish I had known you when I initially got sick! You inspire me to never give up hope! Thank you for being my friend and encouraging me to continue to do well! You’re amazing!

  3. Adam, thank you for sharing your story so beautifully. You have always been able to put into words the pain, sorrow, beauty, and growth you live through. Your strength has a big impact on others. You inspire me.

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