Not Hired

Found on Craigslist and passed along by “East Coast HR”:

It’s 10am and I’m not wearing a shirt. The new layer of deodorant I’ve just laid on is more than enough justification to go with out a shower. I put my basketball shoes on with out socks and my feet are already starting to sweat while I shoot bad guys in an escapists paradise, The Nintendo Wii.
My brain activity is off the charts today. In the few hours I’ve been awake, I have two 3d Cad designs for a couple of my inventions and at one new plan to make money is beginning to take hold of my focus. After completing my first round of weapons training.
I begin to hear noises coming from my old bedroom, which my room mate now calls home. In the back of my mind I’m thinking: [deleted], you are hearing things. It’s your paranoia getting to you. Before I could even finish that sentence, my mind’s other recognized competing train of thought comes running to the fore front of reason and reminds of the things I’ve been hiding all my life. This is usually accompanied by some vocalization about how I want to kill myself. I quickly come to the conclusion there may be some one in my house snooping through my secrets. I then think about the upstairs and how many places there are to hide. I begin to panic. My heart begins to beat so loud I wonder if [deleted] can hear it. My cat looks uninterested. I don’t hear any of the bells I’ve placed on doors upstairs. This should be a fact which makes me feel better but I just think the intruder is being careful. Even if I did hear them, the noises coming from the upstairs back right corner of the house would probably have drowned them out.
I continue with my game. Reload, Reload, Reload. I struggle to ignore the noises, which in retrospect, I realize are auditory hallucinations. I can’t go about my business because the stress of not knowing if something or some one is upstairs begins to eat at me. I eventually give in and prepare myself for a decision and then act accordingly. I first go to the utility drawer to look for a knife. Meanwhile I am psyching myself up to go into battle. Should there actually be some one hiding upstairs, I select a small pairing knife and close the drawer. I decide I’m going to hold the knife in my left hand with my thumb over the butt of the handle and the blade facing outward and away. I hold it in this way so if I swing and miss with a left punch the blade will still travel across the face of the attacker. My right hand is a pretty effective weapon, so deciding to put the knife in my left hand was a no brainer. I then throw a few punch combinations to get the rust out and slowly make my way up the stairs.
I hear my ring tone to phone play, but I can’t be sure if it’s actually ringing because it’s in the next room. Considering the present situation, coupled with the fact I used to hear my phone ring constantly via auditory hallucination was reason enough not to check it. I try not to intertwine my hallucinations. Life gets really crazy from an outside perspective if you think about what’s going on here. Dealing with one paranoia induced delusion at a time is tough enough. I didn’t want to get involved in another.
Even if the phone was ringing, I didn’t want to attempt to talk to anyone until I was sure my house was free and clear of intruders. Everything is silent and [deleted] is watching me from my carpet track laid through out my house. I’m being careful not to make the stairs squeak. Then I begin to say the same thing I always say when I’m out on my intruder patrols, “You are going to have to shoot me, I’m trained, I’m strong and I will kill you if you do not surrender or identify yourself.” I have never had to kill anyone in my house, but I am prepared to do so. This revelation actually scares me considering my fight or flight response is lighting quick and I can sky rocket into an adrenaline infused rampaging rage with no preparation or warning. I understand what you are thinking because at one time or another I have thought the same thing. If you know deep down there is no one there, why bother to go up and search?
This is where I pose this scenario. Imagine you are typing on your computer, and you hear and feel noises coming from the room above you. Despite the constant shuffling of boxes and banging around going on upstairs, you ignore the noise and vibrations. You try to entertain yourself by turning on the WII or XBOX 360. As you pick up your second spare, the noise grows louder. You then look at the ceiling and there is silence. You turn the Wii volume back on the ceiling even looks like it’s shaking there is so much noise. You now have confirmed you are a crazy person and for a brief moment you feel waves of euphoria, panic, anger and depression rushing at you from all sides. The walls begin caving in on you. You try to escape. You go outside to get some fresh air. At this time you say hello to your cat which is basking the sun. Ask her how she’s doing. She meows. At this time you might shed a tear or two and pity yourself because you are hearing things in the house and now you are outside in your bath robe talking to your cat. You think, why me? What’s going on? Why can’t I control this?
This delusion, debilitating as it is typically occurs once a day. I used to let scenarios like this depress me but now I just pimp past it while all the time saying to myself, “[deleted], there is nothing up there, and the noises and vibrations you hear are all in your head, ” Four times out of five, the sounds will stop and I, with a new found sense of control, go back to doing what I was doing before the episode began. But the fifth time… That’s where I can become so amped up and excited I can only imagine what an outside perspective probably looks like. Especially when time and time again I find there is no one there.
Allow me to bring you up to speed. My name is [deleted] and I’m a crazy person. I’m great with numbers and words. I’m a fantastic sales person and can manipulate just about anyone when I’m in front of them. I give examples through out the book of my ability to do this. I’ve always considered myself smarter than the average person and have pretty much got my way in every deal or situation. Well, unless you exclude the times I’ve been fired for my behavior. It is a blessing to have a brain which works on a higher functioning level then the average person but it comes with a price.
Clinical insanity is a tough pill to swallow. After a complete schizophrenic breakdown at work. I underwent a quick hospitalization and began a medicated period of my life which nearly killed me. I quit drinking at that time and started taking whatever pills the doctors prescribed. I would find myself not going to work, crying when i opened the refrigerator, occupying my couch for days at a time while thinking and dreaming about killing myself. During this period I couldn’t work because I was in such a medicated slop I couldn’t stay awake. Then it hit me. I’ll never react like a crazy person now that I know I’m a crazy person! Well that was the plan. When I feel a breakdown or freak out coming on, I just remove myself from the situation. I’m aware of the potential for problems in public and I know how to handle them before they get out of hand.
My girlfriend helps me out. She sees my potential and loves me. She has quelled my thirst for alpha male domination and also happens to be the smartest and sexiest woman I know. With her help, I’m proud to say for a year now I have been handling bipolar schizophrenia with out medication. But, unfortunately we are still left with the fact that I am a crazy person.
Depending on who I am when I wake up in the morning determines my productivity, my relationship status, my ability to produce income and whether or not I will have suicidal thoughts. I am not a danger to society and have never injured myself. However, I wouldn’t be completely honest if I didn’t tell you about the times I’m sitting watching television and out of nowhere my right fist comes flying and hits me in the side of the head. My room mate, who’s an odd character himself, has seen this and I think it freaked him out. We have known each other since Jr. High School. I hate to say it but he’s short and fat and has a bad attitude because he’s short and fat. He’s bitter that I pace around the house in my robe all day and write and play video games while he slaves away at his dead end job.
I am grateful to him though, He keeps me in check when we have friends over to the house. I have a short fuse and people know when they come over not to break or spill anything. I suppose my aggressiveness and lack of humor is why I don’t have many friends. i don’t understand irony or metaphor. I take people literally on everything and struggle to understand when people do not say what they truly mean free from literary device. Unfortunately on bad days I’m a cross between Jack Nicholson’s Character in AS GOOD AS IT GETS and Tony Shalhoub’s Monk.