“I’ve had to rise to occasions—not just on the stage—in order to survive, so that bruising is my blessing and those liabilities are my strength now.”
- Carrie Fisher
January 18, 2019
Joe had some time to think about the events that happened in the past ten days and he still couldn't believe it. Here he was, a married man, with a girlfriend. Well, not really. He wasn't sure what to call the thing he had with Lucy but he was clear he had something. It was clear they had something to everyone but them long enough that even though they were attempting to keep things private, it wouldn't really matter to anyone. His estranged wife knew. Lucy's ex-girlfriend knew. Apparently even his CWF opponent Jimmy Allen knew, although he wasn't sure how. Tabloids, maybe.
And yet, with his love life seemingly full of possibilities, all was not well.
One thing Joe seemed unable to handle with his condition was stress, as it made him forget. Forgetting was bad if you were Joe, because he had bipolar disorder. This wasn't a shocking revelation to anyone that followed his career (particularly when he announced it in OWF) but it wasn't exactly something he liked to talk about. He liked to talk less about the fact he actually took several drugs, including the antipsychotic olanzapine, in order to keep himself stable. Less than that, the fact that he'd be on medication for the rest of his life.
The problem with olanzapine in particular, is that if you don't take your doses on time every day, you risk the effect wearing off and your worst symptoms coming forward. And the reason Joe was on an antipsychotic medication was that his bipolar disorder came with psychotic features, free of charge. A bargain, you might say. Get one mental illness, get your next one free. It wasn't good to forget his medication
But forget he did, and he realized that a few days after he kissed Lucy. Kissed her, in what was likely one of those impulsive decisions during his mania that he read so much about. Would he have done that if he were stable?
He liked to think he would. He hoped that letting Lucy know how he felt wasn't a byproduct of a lack of medicinal aid. But then, we can never be too sure of who we really are at any given moment. This was at least true of Joe, who was actually mentally ill while others in the business simply pretended to be.
There were two JCs. One was the somewhat rational, cool and sometimes easily angered Joe. The other was JC: the product of his dark passenger, a beast of a wrestler that simply liked to hurt people in the guise of competition. That was the one he tried to keep locked up in a drug-powered prison. It was almost like having an alternate personality, but not really, since they were both different sides of the same person.
Which is what brought him back to the office of his psychiatrist, Dr. Jonathan Fuller. As always, he liked Fuller well enough, but he always felt the long walk and subsequent talk with the good doctor was more of an inconvenience than anything else. He didn't want to be here, he never did. But he did so for the betterment of his health and to decrease the chances of going too far with his violence one day.
Like you did with Trent. Or Moxie. Or Chase Johnson. You even tried to hurt Lucy once.
Guilt, as always, for things he did that he couldn't take back. No drugs would make that go away.
He sat down in his usual chair while the doctor moved behind a desk.
"So, Joe. How have you been since our last visit?"
Joe had been a patient of Fuller's since he first opened his practice. He had a kind, if slightly disingenuous personality. JC always thought it was best to play along. Joe usually agreed.
"I've been forgetting my meds, I think. It's been a very stressful time."
"As long as you remember to take them as soon as possible it should be.."
"I've went about a week, week and a half without, then I finally started taking them again once I remembered."
"I see."
Fuller scratched a note down on his pad.
Probably something judgmental.
Joe thought about this some more and decided it was probably true, but he didn't care. As long as he got his medication and was given a clean bill of health, the doctor's personal opinion mattered very little to him.
"Well, there's a good chance that you might have to change things up again but there's no way to know. Have you had any symptoms?"
"It's hard to tell, honestly. So much has happened that I don't know if what I'm feeling could be my issue or not."
"Okay, start with the most recent thing."
"The most recent?"
"Yes...we'll work backwards."
"That sounds like a bad idea to me."
"Just humor me. I want to see if your lack of medication for a week has had any effect on your behavior."
Joe thought some more, and decided there was no harm in telling him. Of all the people he couldn't tell or wouldn't tell, his doctor was low risk. There was that whole "doctor-patient confidentiality" thing he was always told about. He supposed that technically, kissing Lucy Wylde didn't hurt anybody.
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January 8, 2018
"That was a bad idea."
Joe took a step back from Lucy, realizing that he did something incredibly stupid. He ran a hand through his hair and he felt his cheeks turning crimson. He was never this awkward around women, he always felt sure of himself. He remembered his carefree days as Joe Cool and the rock star lifestyle he lived for a few years. Those days were behind him now. Plus, none of those women mattered. Lucy mattered a whole hell of a lot.
He looked up, fearful that she'd see his face and laugh at him. But there was not a trace of humor to be found. In fact, she actually looked...disappointed? No, that couldn't be it. She pressed two fingers to her lips and then quickly lowered them, as if she touched something that was on fire.
"Why do you say that?"
"You don't think so?"
She shook her head.
"No, I don't."
Her saying that made him want to do it again, but he held off. There was no way she meant that, right?
"But there were so many reasons why I shouldn't..."
He let the sentence trail off instead of listing them. There was no need. He never kept any secrets from her. Surprisingly enough, that's one of the things that led to his wife throwing him off of their house. He kept secrets from his wife but thus far had been totally honest with Lucy.
She stepped forward, reaching up and touching the side of his face. Her touch was surprisingly cool.
"Oh shut up already..."
She then stood on her tip toes and kissed him back.
He looked up, fearful that she'd see his face and laugh at him. But there was not a trace of humor to be found. In fact, she actually looked...disappointed? No, that couldn't be it. She pressed two fingers to her lips and then quickly lowered them, as if she touched something that was on fire.
"Why do you say that?"
"You don't think so?"
She shook her head.
"No, I don't."
Her saying that made him want to do it again, but he held off. There was no way she meant that, right?
"But there were so many reasons why I shouldn't..."
He let the sentence trail off instead of listing them. There was no need. He never kept any secrets from her. Surprisingly enough, that's one of the things that led to his wife throwing him off of their house. He kept secrets from his wife but thus far had been totally honest with Lucy.
She stepped forward, reaching up and touching the side of his face. Her touch was surprisingly cool.
"Oh shut up already..."
She then stood on her tip toes and kissed him back.
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January 18, 2018
If Fuller had an opinion on this particular memory, he didn't give it.
"Why were you staying with Lucy to begin with?"
"Oh yeah, that's the other thing. Stacy kicked me out."
Fuller raised an eyebrow and nearly dropped the pen he was using to take notes. He opened his mouth to say something but Joe cut him off.
"You wanted to start from the most recent incident."
The doctor chuckled, then jotted something else down in his pad.
"That's true. I did. So...it seems like you've had a lot that could make you feel any number of things. What is it exactly you're worried about?"
"Did I say I was worried?"
"You wouldn't have brought up missing your meds if you did."
Joe felt a little angry at this, typical of the psychoanalyzing that made him prefer therapists to psychiatrists. Psychiatrists were always a little cold and clinical in their approach. Therapists were much more empathetic and felt like a friend you could talk to. And yet he didn't want to sit and give his life story to someone new. Fuller was his doctor these days mostly for convenience's sake.
He didn't know a lot about bipolar disorder, but he'd done some reading in the time since he was diagnosed. He tried to bring this up with Fuller, who mostly dismissed his claims as any doctor would when a patient tries to self-diagnose. All Joe wanted was a grasp on this opponent he wrestled with every day. It was the same as watching footage of his opponents before a big match. And yet he had no help in that regard.
Instead, he spilled his guts once a month and got a prescription. He filled it at a pharmacy and the process repeated itself later.
But in spite of all of that, he still kept it up and even now he felt as though the doctor was right. That's probably what irritated him the most.
"You're probably right."
"I'm guessing that you might feel some symptoms but it's too early to tell if the medicine will become ineffective by not taking it. As for you kissing Lucy, you don't need bipolar disorder to make dumb decisions, if that's indeed what you think it was."
"I don't know."
"And that's not something for me to say. All I can tell you is what I think your brain is doing."
"So this was pointless."
"Not really. You are getting your meds refilled, are you not?"
All he wanted was a simple answer. He didn't like having his buttons pushed, intentional or not.
"So it wasn't mania. It wasn't the start of my symptoms coming back, and I was in complete control?"
"I can't tell you for sure, but when we say that people with mania make reckless choices, we normally mean like, gambling or huge purchases. Kissing someone you're attracted to isn't high up there."
"That's true...but I just can't be too sure these days. I never know if I'm in control or not."
"That's why I'm here, and that's why we'll keep checking in like this until you feel like you are in control. This is a lifelong condition, so it's important that we keep it in check. All you can really do is learn from your mistakes, if you make them, and adjust. I know it's tough, but you haven't had any delusions in a long time so you're automatically better than you were."
Joe simply nodded along with all of this, as it mostly went in one ear and out the other. He was already waiting for the time to end. The visit was pointless as they all were, but he did realize one thing. It didn't matter why he kissed Lucy, in the end. The point was that he did. And he'd do it again, if she'd let him.
He thought about that as he left the office and as he got into his car. He thought about it on the drive back to where he was staying.
He thought he might try it again the next time they were alone.
If Fuller had an opinion on this particular memory, he didn't give it.
"Why were you staying with Lucy to begin with?"
"Oh yeah, that's the other thing. Stacy kicked me out."
Fuller raised an eyebrow and nearly dropped the pen he was using to take notes. He opened his mouth to say something but Joe cut him off.
"You wanted to start from the most recent incident."
The doctor chuckled, then jotted something else down in his pad.
"That's true. I did. So...it seems like you've had a lot that could make you feel any number of things. What is it exactly you're worried about?"
"Did I say I was worried?"
"You wouldn't have brought up missing your meds if you did."
Joe felt a little angry at this, typical of the psychoanalyzing that made him prefer therapists to psychiatrists. Psychiatrists were always a little cold and clinical in their approach. Therapists were much more empathetic and felt like a friend you could talk to. And yet he didn't want to sit and give his life story to someone new. Fuller was his doctor these days mostly for convenience's sake.
He didn't know a lot about bipolar disorder, but he'd done some reading in the time since he was diagnosed. He tried to bring this up with Fuller, who mostly dismissed his claims as any doctor would when a patient tries to self-diagnose. All Joe wanted was a grasp on this opponent he wrestled with every day. It was the same as watching footage of his opponents before a big match. And yet he had no help in that regard.
Instead, he spilled his guts once a month and got a prescription. He filled it at a pharmacy and the process repeated itself later.
But in spite of all of that, he still kept it up and even now he felt as though the doctor was right. That's probably what irritated him the most.
"You're probably right."
"I'm guessing that you might feel some symptoms but it's too early to tell if the medicine will become ineffective by not taking it. As for you kissing Lucy, you don't need bipolar disorder to make dumb decisions, if that's indeed what you think it was."
"I don't know."
"And that's not something for me to say. All I can tell you is what I think your brain is doing."
"So this was pointless."
"Not really. You are getting your meds refilled, are you not?"
All he wanted was a simple answer. He didn't like having his buttons pushed, intentional or not.
"So it wasn't mania. It wasn't the start of my symptoms coming back, and I was in complete control?"
"I can't tell you for sure, but when we say that people with mania make reckless choices, we normally mean like, gambling or huge purchases. Kissing someone you're attracted to isn't high up there."
"That's true...but I just can't be too sure these days. I never know if I'm in control or not."
"That's why I'm here, and that's why we'll keep checking in like this until you feel like you are in control. This is a lifelong condition, so it's important that we keep it in check. All you can really do is learn from your mistakes, if you make them, and adjust. I know it's tough, but you haven't had any delusions in a long time so you're automatically better than you were."
Joe simply nodded along with all of this, as it mostly went in one ear and out the other. He was already waiting for the time to end. The visit was pointless as they all were, but he did realize one thing. It didn't matter why he kissed Lucy, in the end. The point was that he did. And he'd do it again, if she'd let him.
He thought about that as he left the office and as he got into his car. He thought about it on the drive back to where he was staying.
He thought he might try it again the next time they were alone.
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Jimmy Allen managed to get a foot on the ropes. I didn't know, neither did the referee, but it happened. So while I most certainly would have beat him anyway, I'm not a fan that my entry into the second round comes with an asterisk. But I'm not one to look to the past and what's done is done. I'll just have to make sure that my next match isn't as disappointing.
And yet, it's hard not to be disappointed when I look at my next opponent.
God, how I want you to be different, Loki Synn. Or Cheshire. Or whatever you'll be calling yourself by the time we actually meet in the ring.
Do you have any idea how many people just like you I've faced? How many I've beaten? More than I care to get into and more than you'd be willing to sit still and listen to. I mean, fuck, you're not even the first wannabe that I've beaten that can't decide on a fucking ring name. What makes you stand out? What makes you different from every other opponent I've ever had?
Not a damn thing. Oh let me guess, you're "crazy"? You're feared. You're the big bad of CWF and sorry and there's nary a slayer in sight. Am I close? You'll forgive me if I'm not shaking in my boots. Of course, you probably have a response for this too. I'm going to be lucky to escape with my career, you'll say. I should be scared, you'll say. And then you'll say a bunch of other things before I've kicked your teeth down your throat.
I'm 42 years old and I've been in this business for nearly half my life. There is nothing you can say or do that'll make me see you as anything more than generic. Bland. Bargain-basement at best. I've heard people tell me to be afraid before. I've heard people tell me my health was in jeopardy before. I beat them.
I'm so tired of bullshit and everything I've seen and heard from you says to me that you're just more of the same. You're not special. You're not unique. You're not the lone knife in a drawer full of forks. All you are is 'next'. You're the next one for me to face, talk trash to and eventually defeat. And isn't that sad?
I think it's sad.
I think it's downright depressing that I have to travel all this way, compete in a ring I'm unfamiliar with and the best that management could give me was you. Oh sure, you're a former World champion but I've beaten those too.
All I wanted out of this tournament was competition and instead I get stuck with a Joker pastiche that likely dressed as the Crow for Halloween a decade after that stopped being favorable. Don't worry, Cheshire, 90s nostalgia is in now. You'll fit right in at the next costume party.
I can't really blame management for this. They probably think highly of you. I'm sure they're creaming themselves over the thought of two former World champions going head to head in the second round. It's not their fault that I'm a legitimate champion and you're a clown that once held a toy belt. You're probably the best they could do until actual champions came along. Thanks for holding that place for us, Loki, but we'll take it from here. Your services are no longer required.
You'll notice I keep switching back and forth between your names. That's because I genuinely don't give a shit what you call yourself.
All you are to me is next.
You're the next person I'll beat. The next stop on my road to giving this place a champion it can really be proud of. The next clown I kick the greasepaint off of. I might just kick you extra hard for giving actual crazy people a bad name.
This is normally the part where I ask you to prove me wrong, but I know you won't. Your kind never does. I'm not scared of you, I'm not worried about you and once I'm done at Evolution, I won't ever think about you again.
Just like everyone else I've ever beaten.
