And just like the prior 3 years of living and working in psychosis, no one knew the hidden truth. No one suspected the depth and pain of my internal struggles. No one had an inkling that I passed the weekend away in a hospital mental ward. And no one would have ever fathomed that I believed the entire business was a government front and that most of the employees were secret agents.
And there I was . . . all alone in the passenger front seat. . . keys left in the ignition. My manic mind an overpowering competitor against my ability to maintain reasonable and rational thought. The possibilities were overwhelming. The temptation too powerful. And without pause, I leapt over the console into the driver’s seat, wrapped my hand around the keys in the ignition, and gave them a forceful turn. I threw the gear into drive.
Psychotic tendancies didn't appear in my early twenties as they often do with the many that find themselves waging a mental war fretted with hallucinations and delusions during that age. My constant deliberation with the the probability that I might be hunted at large by an underground sex cult didn't reveal itself until into my mid 40's. But my late twenties bore tell tale signs of possible trouble ahead.