And the Britney song was on

It started subtly—like a spark I didn’t notice had caught fire. At first, it felt like my mind was opening up, like I’d unlocked something extraordinary. Colors became louder, brighter, more alive. But not just any colors—orange, green and blue. They were everywhere: in the sky, in signs, in my own thoughts. It wasn’t just a coincidence to me; it was a code, a message the universe was begging me to decipher.

And then there was Britney Spears. I’ve loved her since I was a kid—her music, her story, the way she seemed to be the coolest girl in the room but also this weird, confused, and vulnerable soul. In the summer of 2023, it was just me, Britney’s lyrics, and the warm orange glow of my “Hi Lovey” sign. Somewhere along the way, I became convinced that Britney was my guide. Every Instagram caption of hers became a clue, a breadcrumb leading me toward a greater truth I was meant to uncover. In my mind, she wasn’t just posting dancing videos—she was speaking directly to me, leaving Easter eggs for me to follow.

I remember sitting with my sister and brother-in-law, listening to her biggest hit, Toxic, when the weight of it all hit me like a tidal wave. Suddenly, everything clicked. “Too high, can't come down. Losing my head, spinnin' 'round and 'round. Do you feel me now?” Tears began streaming down my face as I dropped to my knees, overwhelmed by what I thought was a moment of divine revelation. “Oh my god!” I screamed, my voice echoing through the room. “I cracked the code! I cracked the code!” I truly believed I’d unlocked the secrets of the universe, and Britney Spears had handed me the key.

I know it sounds strange, and looking back, I can see how disconnected I was from reality. But in the moment, it all felt so real. That’s what psychosis does—it warps your perceptions and pulls you into a world where logic and reality don’t exist the way they should.

At some point, I decided I needed to go on a “mission.” The last text I sent was to my sister: “No, I’m okay. I’m going to Taco Cabana.” I wandered for hours, searching for signs, for Easter eggs. I was lost in my own world, where everything had meaning—colors, symbols, lyrics. Time became irrelevant; I lost track of it entirely. The world around me blurred into a kaleidoscope of orange and green, and Britney’s lyrics echoed in my head like prophecies I was meant to follow. My family didn’t know where I was, and I had no concept of how worried they must have been. All I knew was that I had a mission to complete, and nothing else mattered.

Eventually, my journey ended in a way I could have never predicted: the police found me at my neighbor’s house, wandering aimlessly and rambling incoherently about colors and Easter eggs, as though I were piecing together a puzzle only I could see. They told me I was being “medically arrested.” By this point, I was so far gone in my delusions that I genuinely believed I was being taken to heaven, where I’d meet Britney Spears, Taylor Swift, and for some reason, Greta Gerwig. In that moment, all I could think was, “This is it. I finally made it.”

I remember sitting in the back of the police car, just sobbing, staring out the window as the billboards in San Antonio seemed to send me secret messages of warmth and love. It felt surreal, like a scene out of a movie—specifically, one of the final scenes in Lady Bird, when she’s saying goodbye to her mom and to her city. Everything around me felt charged with meaning, as if even the mundane could offer comfort in a moment of complete chaos. I wasn’t sure where I was going or what was happening, but in that moment, it felt like the city itself was trying to tell me I wasn’t alone.

The diagnosis was psychosis, triggered by a manic episode tied to bipolar disorder. At first, it felt like a life sentence—a confirmation that my mind had turned against me, that I was somehow broken. I felt betrayed by my own thoughts, as though I’d lost control of the very thing that made me, me.

As time went on, and the mania lifted, I began to see that it wasn’t a life sentence—it was a turning point. A chance to better understand myself, to face the challenges head-on, and to learn how to navigate a life that, while different than I imagined, could still be full of meaning and hope.

Bipolar disorder is messy, complicated, and relentless. It doesn’t ask permission, and it doesn’t play fair. But as much as it’s challenged me, it’s also shaped me. It’s a part of who I am—not the whole story, but a thread woven into the fabric of my life. I’m learning to live with it, to navigate its twists and turns, and to accept that my mind will sometimes take me to places I never intended to go.

As I reflect on everything that happened, I realize that Britney Spears played a strange yet pivotal role in my journey. In my mind, she was more than just a pop star; she was a guiding force, a symbol of resilience when I felt lost. Her music, her story, and those cryptic Instagram captions were all I had to cling to when the world around me felt like it was falling apart. Maybe she will never know it, but in my moments of delusion, Britney was a thread that kept me tethered to something I could almost understand.

So, thank you, Britney, for being there in ways you never intended, for giving me something to hold onto when everything else felt like it was slipping through my fingers. You may never know how deeply your music and presence impacted me in those dark moments, but I’ll be forever grateful.

Sometimes, when I’m alone in my room, I find myself missing the signs—the otherworldly lifeline I felt when I was high in the sky. It’s strange to long for something born out of chaos, but there was a comfort in believing the universe was speaking directly to me. Hit me, Britney, one more time for a sign. But nothing comes. It’s quiet now, and maybe that’s the sign I needed all along.

“If you're a weird introvert oddball like me, who feels alone a lot of the time, and you needed to hear a story like this today so you don't feel alone, know this: My life has been far from easy, and you're not alone."—Britney Spears