Believing that one might be being surveilled through one's own glasses is a paranoid fantasy that gets closer to reality every day!
This story makes me think of the portrayal of John Nash in a beautiful mind.
The ending was profoundly disturbing to me, but I couldn't explain the feeling. Then I realized why.
>"Sorry about him hassling you, he's back on his meds now."
and not
>"Sorry about me hassling you, I'm back on my meds now."
What the fuck? Maybe this is too much of an immediate response for me, but why the fuck would you contact the police? Do the police seem like they take care of people like him well? Shit I feel bad for him, the one guy he thought he could trust just snitched on him, even if he was crazy. Must have been hell to undergo that. Maybe you should have posted to a forum about how to help him first, as opposed to helping? Now the police thinks he is harassing random people and has a legal trail just in case they want to discriminate against him.
I was involved in this incident, as one of the friends who helped track him down. I believe contacting the police was a good move because his letters indicated that he was a danger to himself and to others.
Okay thank you. My initial tone was unwarranted. I apologize.
The police conduct welfare checks on people who may need help. Despite the internet's fascination with police abuse, they can be quite helpful to people.
And maybe you shouldn't be so offhandedly judgmental. I actually called a suicide hotline in the area first (the only mental health service I could come up with) and, after I convinced them that I wasn't suicidal, it was their suggestion to contact the police.
But yes, I guess it was terrible that this poor guy got help and got his life back on track.
I had a schizophrenic guy send me regular e-mails for about two months. For reasons still unknown to me, he decided that I was the one person in the world that he could trust.
The first e-mail was very short and looked like spam. It was a brief note about how the death of some professional wrestler wasn't an accident. Then they got longer and longer, and finally he started writing his messages out by hand, scanning them, and e-mailing me the scans.
This revealed something really interesting. He was scanning these things at work. He had what appeared to be a regular 9-5 office job at a large company, and he managed to keep a lid on things enough to hold down that job while writing pages and pages of paranoia to me and scanning them on the office multifunction machine.
The most interesting/amusing/sad part of all of this was a single handwritten page sent a day or two after one of the multi-page manifestos. It said, paraphrased, "I screwed up when I sent you that last e-mail. After I scanned the note, I tore it up as I always do, but this time I wore my glasses. I believe they read it." Evidently, this fellow believed he was under such pervasive surveillance that they (whoever they were) could see things through his own glasses. The elaborate procedures he went through to send me notes were apparently worked out to circumvent this stuff, but they required good operational discipline which he couldn't always handle. Or something like that! It clearly made perfect sense to him.
After a couple of months, I tracked the guy down with the help of some friends and got in touch with the local police so they could check on the guy, as he was clearly getting worse and I didn't think he'd be safe. I didn't hear anything after that until a couple of months later when a brief e-mail arrived from a relative that basically said, "Sorry about him hassling you, he's back on his meds now."
So, a happy ending, I guess. And certainly one of the most interesting things that's happened to me online.