“Look at all these fools. Wasting their time with no perspective on how things really are. I’m the only one who knows how things really are. I made eye contact with a finch that was at my level in a nearby tree. See, we both get it”
Brett is intense. Intense as a youth piecing together the world. Intense as an undersized point guard, middle child, and student. Intense as a professional poker player, manager, and problem solver. But most notably, intense as an unaware manic mind set free in the world.
Crossover: A Look inside a Manic Mind is a personal memoir detailing the evolution of psychotic thoughts and how they influenced Brett’s behavior during the three manic episodes that spanned the past decade of his life. Through basketball, poker, and work, Crossover offers a firsthand account of how the world looks and feels as a person with Bipolar I from childhood traits to adult expression. Brett’s recall of these incidents is so detailed because he has a rare condition called hypermnesia, an unusually enhanced, vivid, and precise memory. His perspective sheds light on the progression of bipolar disorder and will enhance your ability to learn and empathize with those affected by the illness. Suicide among people with bipolar disorder is thirty times higher than the general population, yet the cause and prevention remain a mystery.
Brett’s story is educational and inspiring for anyone who suffers from or has been affected by mental illness. It is a must read for medical professionals, therapists, students, and teachers.
Read an excerpt from his book below and click here to be directed to the full book on Amazon.
I woke up alone in my apartment to the sound of birds chirping and the sun blazing. I cannot wait to get this day started. I noticed a white smear on my car through the window, followed the line up to the sky, and saw a bird. I laughed to myself. That bird tagged me as a friend and wants to follow me around today. I widened my view out of the window and noticed several birds flying and perched at all different altitudes. I followed a shiny golden line bouncing from one bird to the other like a shooting star. I stared at this beautiful work of art for about ten minutes, interrupted by a tear dripping down my cheek. It’s so beautiful. I was still in my sleep clothes but decided to put my sunglasses on to block the light, which was now overwhelming.
I walked into the kitchen, with shorts and sunglasses on, alone in my apartment, but didn’t feel hungry. Do birds need to eat three meals a day? I wish I were a bird. I had been very prompt for most of my life, but today, I lost track of time. When I saw the time on my phone, I panicked. I had class in ten minutes, and I was fifteen minutes away. I grabbed a few random notebooks and threw them into my backpack. I found sweatpants and a hoodie to wear and ran out to the car. As I walked outside, I couldn’t help but notice how many birds were in the sky. I got in my car and felt panic about being late for biology. I opened all the windows and smirked as I saw the bird shit on my windshield. Those tricky little bastards. Why are they targeting me? I’ll try to scare them away. I turned up Tom Petty’s “Don’t Come Around Here No More,” hoping it would make them disappear.
♪Hey! Don’t come around here no more♪
The panic got worse, and my chest tightened up. I still had a chance to be on time if I could catch every green light. The first one was red, and I waited, tapping my foot in anticipation. It turned green, and I stepped on it as I made a left turn. I heard a startling honk, not realizing I didn’t have the right-of-way. I sped through a few green lights and was almost there. The final light turned red, but I looked both ways and decided it was all right to go through. I found a good parking spot and jogged to class.
“Yo, Stevens! Why the fuck are you wearing sweatpants and a hoodie? It’s, like, one hundred degrees outside.” It was John, high as ever, busting balls. “Can’t talk right now. See you later!” I scooted off. I wonder if John is aware of how these birds operate. I made it to the auditorium right as class was about to begin, drenched in sweat. I had a bird’s-eye view of the whole lecture hall and could hear what they were all talking about. “Why was he late?” “Why is he wearing that?” “He may be the greatest man of all time for figuring out the bird secrets.” I was proud of myself for the work I had done that morning. Maybe we are all just birds and we don’t know it.
The lecturer quieted his students and began. I looked into my backpack and saw that I had my notebooks for English, Math, and Spanish. English, Math, Spanish. En. Ma. Spa. En-Ma-Spa. Ha ha ha. I laughed to myself about how quickly I could come up with such a creative rhyme. Maybe I’ll be the next Eminem. “Today we’re going to talk about evolution,” said my professor as he showed an image of all different animals on the screen, including an eagle. Oh. My. God. There is no way that this could be a coincidence. I’ve been thinking about birds all morning, and here I am in class, looking at a bird! My professor continued, “Charles Darwin, the creator of the theory of biological evolution, was a pioneer. He went where no others had gone before in developing this theory. He was way ahead of his time.”
My interpretation of this statement sounded like, “He was a pioneer. He went where no others had gone before.” Could the professor really be talking about me in front of this large audience? Am I him? I noticed a student look back, checking the time. I’ll sign autographs later. Keep your eyes forward, buddy. The first three minutes of class felt like three hours. I decided I had more important things to do, like conducting more studies on birds. I hustled to the second floor of an outdoor balcony that overlooked the quad. I perched over the railing with my elbows touching and hands covering my mouth. Be a bird, Brett. BBB. I didn’t move my body at all, but my eyes were scanning the scene. I looked down on hundreds of students rushing to and from class. Some lying out on the lawn, others skateboarding. Look at all these fools. Wasting their time with no perspective on how things really are. I’m the only one who knows how things really are. I made eye contact with a finch that was at my level in a nearby tree. See, we both get it.
This dialogue went on and on for hours until the sun started to set. I decided that I’d done enough amazing work for one day and headed back to my apartment. When I walked back in, I found my roommates playing PlayStation. “Wassup, dudes?” I said. “Yo,” they both replied. “You wanna get some food?” John said. “Na, I’m good. Just going to call it an early night.” As I walked to my room, I heard a yell. “You realize it’s only six o’clock, right?” “Yeah, I don’t feel like eating, and I’m just gonna pass out.” “Whatever, man,” he said. I lay down for the next several hours, balancing panic, anxiety, and euphoria. I called my mom to tell her how great I was doing, and she was so happy.
Crossover: A Look Inside a Manic Mind is available now on Amazon.
