When I was 20, I started getting messages from the TV and radio about different things that were happening in my life, like they would talk about something that was happening to me or that had happened to me that I felt insecure about. It would have some sort of deep connection to me, these messages from the radio. And I started noticing that it was telling me things like I should go somewhere or I should do something.

I knew that these messages were a sign that I was somebody extremely important, because why else would they be broadcasting to me personally? So, I knew I had to go and go on this mission to save the world or do some great thing. So, that night I left without telling anybody.

I flew out to New York, planning to go to the UN, because during this whole time I had this running dialogue in my head about where I should go, what I should do, what I was meant for, and it seemed pretty clear that I would have to get on the world stage, the United Nations stage, instead of the U.S. And everything that happened along this journey was significant somehow. I would make the connection in my brain that the name of the cabdriver or the name of the cab company was significant to the mission or that it had some underlying message that I had to follow. So, I was questioning myself the entire time. This whole mission just seemed ridiculous to anybody who would see it or who would look in from the outside. But I knew that these things were real, like, I knew that these indications meant something.

I go to the UN, and it's a Saturday so of course the UN is closed, and so I'm just walking around New York aimlessly, trying to find a place where I can sleep or just find the next clue that will lead me to where I have to be.

I was following these colors and following these signs and trying to find out what was going on. Finally, I said, "Screw it, I don't want to deal with this stuff anymore," so I decided to take a bus to Canada because I wanted to get out of the box. So, I went to the train station and I looked on the destination board and there was a destination called Woods Hole, Massachusetts and I thought that was a pretty clear indication that that was a hole through the woods to Canada.

So, I'm just walking on these backroads and I'm just tired and exasperated and I just want out. So, I stick my thumb out and of course most people pass but then this lady stops. And we started to talk about where I had been and what I had been doing, and she took me in that night and made me dinner and let me sleep at her house and in the morning she bought me a train ticket back home.

So, I get home and my parents meet me at the train station and I start going off about my mission and aliens and all this crazy stuff, and they look at each other and they're like, "This is not good," and so they take me to the hospital, to the emergency room. And I sign the papers to go to the psych ward for a 72-hour hold because I thought I could just get out, and so I spent the next seven or eight days in the psych ward.

There were some videos at the hospital that sort of explained what schizophrenia and bipolar were and I noticed that I was displaying some of the behaviors of some of the people in the videos. So, I mean, that kind of hit home, and that was sort of heartbreaking to me because I thought that this whole thing had been a divine, sort of, calling for me. There were some tough conversations and some arguing and some crying in the hospital. I think that's when we really first talked about what was happening.