There was this time I had to come back from Nigeria by myself while recovering from malaria, mid-flare.

Took too much nerve med & was hallucinating. https://twitter.com/tinu/status/1321440611053015041

I was hallucinating on the plane too. When I closed my eyes I could see this spinning colorful tunnel.

So I thought I was dying and could only think, "my mama will mad as hell if I die in the air somewhere."

I kept it together until I got home. I started seeing things with my eyes open. 2D silhouettes of dancing cartoons on one wall.

A letter carved in cursive on another.

I'd stayed on the home with a friend when I realized the hallucinations weren't going away.

She told me to be calm, it wasn't as if I was seeing snakes.

At which time an object I know to be a belt coiled and made a rattle snake sound.

My brother was home but I wasn't sure anything after my outward hallucinations had begun were there for sure.

By now I'd

been up for three days,
had maybe one meal,
was recovering from malaria,
jetlagged,
and was in the kind of pain that makes them give up and shoot horses.

I told my friend that since she was real she should send the paramedics to my house.

What if the police came?

Would I be dead? If the police had come instead?

When the paramedics some I didn't go with them. My train was that I didn't believe they were there, so what did that mean if I went with them.

I wasn't behaving erratically, my vitals were fine

I could prove I lived there though they didn't ask. They left.

But what if the police came?

And what if I didn't want to be carted off by a potential figment of my imagination.

And resisted.

I don't even know that there ARE emergency professionals equal to the case of peacefully bringing a resolution that would prioritze my agency.

But I know they wouldn't have shot me deAd.