He took a bottle full of acne medication and called it suicide.  The night before he called a dike a dike, a whore a whore and Eric got pissed.
"You dumb fuck! You stupid fucking asshole!"
"It’s true!"
"I don’t give a fuck, you stupid fucking asshole! You don’t say that shit."
Eric was irate.

When the fucking asshole didn’t’ show up for work the next day, we were worried. When we called and he didn’t answer, we were worried. When the police called saying he had committed suicide, we shrugged.
"Stupid fuck!"
"Yeah."
"Yeah."
"It was a cry for help."
"Of course."

We later learned he took Tetracycline with water. You can’t overdose on Tetracycline. So he took five Sudafed, slept in late and e-mailed his psychiatrist, "Thanks for nothing."

We discuss this behind his back. He suspected that everyone talks about him behind his back. He's pissed about that. And he's probably pissed that I'm talking behind his back and not going to use his name, which he feels is rightfully owed recognition. He thinks he's owed a girlfriend and a good mother. His was decent. But he calls her Satan. She is the cause of all his miseries, he tells me. It doesn't matter that she lives 5000 miles away and that he never talks to her.

If only she was dead, he could be so much better. If only he was a little bit taller. If only he was a baller. If only he had a girl he would call her. If only he was Jesus Christ. He calls himself Jesus Christ. He says because he doesn't have a girlfriend and because his mother was mean that he is a martyr, dying for our sins.

I laugh. But he's serious.

Posing as Jesus, he has tried to hit on the whore Heather. She tries to stay away from him, rightfully so. She's owed freedom. He says it's because everyone thinks he's a loser and he's owed her. He's owed time in bed with her. Lots of time in bed with this girl. He's owed time in the shower with her and a life with her. He's obsessed with her. He's Jesus and he's pissed he can't get laid.

I know this already, so when I picked him up from the hospital I do not ask why he did it. I say, “Hello,” and hope the car ride home will be quiet.

"So... I found a girl."
"In the psychiatric ward?"
-- Did they allow this, patients dating patients, fucked up spawns breading, what happened to natural selection?
"Yeah, my nurse." He’s serious. "I think I’m going to call her tonight."
-- Do you think a nurse will be happy to get a call from a psychotic stalker whom she took care of after he overdosed? Do you even think you can get her number? What the fuck is wrong with you pulling a stunt like this because you can’t date a girl and then thinking you can date your fucking nurse?
"That’s cool."
"Yeah. Do you think if I call the hospital they will give me her number?"
-- No. I think they’d laugh. I think you’re a fucking idiot for even asking that.
"Maybe."
"I’m going to do that. Want to join me tonight at the bars?"
"Can you drink? You’re on a lot of meds. I don’t think you can drink." He clutched a Zip-lock bag against his waist, at least 20 bottles were inside. Lithium? Prozac? Who knows? Should they give medications to overdose patients?
"I’m fine. I’m taking my nurse out. What about Heather? Is she up for it? Do you think she feels sorry for me? Do a lot of people feel sorry for me? Have people been talking behind my back?"
I didn’t feel like answering.
"Should I drop you off at home or work?"
"What about Heather? You know, it’s her fucking fault. That whore. That fucking whore. She fucks everyone but me, ya know that?"
I do know that. I had slept with her but didn’t feel it was the appropriate time to say so.
"I’m sorry man. Forget about her. Tell me about the nurse."
"Oh dewd, she’s so perfect for me."
-- She’s psychotic too? Would two psychotic patients fall for each other? Didn’t I hook you up with a psychotic chick once? Yes. Yes. I did. I hooked you up and she told me you were crazy, a fucking depressed nutcase. She asked you if you had an Ikea magazine. You said you subscribed to Time magazine. She said that didn’t have couches. You said it might.
"Cool."

He had hope. It's a good sign for the manicly depressed to have hope. He was going to take out his nurse! He was going to fucking do it! "No" was not an answer. Yes. Yes. Yes.

She got a restraining order and two weeks later I picked him up from the hospital again.