I had a rather interesting morning at my day job. Not because of something I did, but because of stuff that was going on around me. Let's just take this step by step.
Apparently, the prey was the guys of the office today. Not exactly sure why this person (who will be known as Taylor) chose guys, but it was their choice. The hallway was the place of the action. Taylor would corner the guys and (from their description) it would seem as if they were putting a hex on them. This brings us to the next part...
Apparently, my side of the office is basically the most awesome place to hang out and discuss things. Nothing wrong with that because you learn a lot and the old timers can give you some good advice. But today, the meeting was about what's up with Taylor? No one really had an answer, but they did have some stories about other instances involving this person and other people (past and present) of the office. They included me in the conversation and asked if I knew of them or had any issues with them. I couldn't lie...although I thought Taylor was friendly, I also thought be mindful when around them. It was just the vibe and I've learned to follow the vibe. After getting as many details as possible, the next step started.
I had turned my music down to hear what was going to happen. The guy in my office decided I'm going to go talk to Taylor's boss. He was gone a little bit longer than expected, so we just assumed he had gone out for a break. Yes, I know it's hot, but it's always nice to get some fresh air in an office where you cannot open the windows. He came back and he told us how the conversation went. He wasn't the first person to tell the boss, but he would be the last. The boss went to go find Taylor and Taylor was not at their desk.
The guy in my office comes back and says, "Taylor's missing and they believe Taylor is off their meds". I turn around to give him my full attention and apparently my face said it all. But, I'm not exactly sure what my face said. It was at that moment, we knew we could possibly have a really bad situation. A few people had been recruited to go find Taylor, but no one was really at ease. There are so many crevices and routes in my building, Taylor could have been anywhere...and we didn't really know what Taylor was up to or capable of.
About 2 and a half hours later, we get word that Taylor has been located and other people in the office were with Taylor. Want details? I have none to give you. I have no clue where Taylor was found. I have no clue what Taylor was doing. I have no clue if they were able to take Taylor home. I have no clue if Taylor had to be restrained by police. I have no clue if medic had to be called to help. But I can imagine this...
I can imagine Taylor was scared. I don't know what Taylor's meds are for, but I know what mine are for. I have anxiety. What if Taylor was acting out because of an anxiety attack? For those of us with anxiety, we know one thing - we don't have anxiety attacks the same way. Speaking for myself, I don't even have anxiety attacks the same way. Sometimes, I cry. Sometimes I can't breath and I cry. Sometimes, I go hide. Sometimes, I keep my face to the ground because I don't want people to touch me or ask if I'm OK (because I'm scared of what they are going to think of me).
We don't know what people are dealing with. If you cannot help them, find someone who can. Keep and eye on them (if you can safely).
I am so happy people went to Taylor's boss and I'm glad Taylor's boss had prior knowledge of their condition, whatever the condition is. Not sure if Taylor is going to return tomorrow or if Taylor will be returning anytime soon. However, I know this, I hope Taylor gets well. It's not like any of us what to be like this. I had feeling like I have to hide. I don't hide because I'm ashamed. I hide because of what I think people will think of me. We have to stop making mental illness (or any variations thereof) a stigma. It happens. It happens to the people who seem to have it all together. Believe me, if I could stop this, I would. But right now, I can't. So, I take my meds and I cope. And while I cope, I keep going because I believe one day, I will be all better. I don't know when (or if) that day is even going to come, but if it does, I'll be right here with open arms.