Encounters With the Mentally Unwell: The Calls That Make You Question Everything (Including That Turkey Log)

Law enforcement has a strange relationship with mentally unwell calls.

They’re unpredictable. They swing between dangerous and ridiculous. And they always — always — happen when you’re one cup of coffee short of mental stability yourself.

But every cop who’s worked longer than three shifts has a handful of those stories. The ones that start normal and then immediately spiral into:

“Ah. Yes. The universe has selected me for this mission.”

Below are two encounters with the mentally unwell that left me staring into the void, questioning my career choices, my life decisions, and occasionally my sense of smell.

1. Mentally Unwell Julia and the Case of the Cursed Turkey Log

At the time, I had almost two years on. Just enough experience to think I knew things. Not enough to know that I didn’t.

By some miracle of turnover, I was assigned to dayshift — the shift where normal humans exist. It’s noon, the sun is warm, kids are out, families are walking around. You know… civilization.

Then we get a call:

“Male subject lying naked on a picnic table.”

Nothing like nudity in broad daylight to remind you the mentally unwell do not operate on society’s schedule.

I’m first on scene and immediately hit with a smell so powerful it could melt a badge. Laying on the table is a human sprawled out like a sad rotisserie chicken — bare from the waist down, sleeping peacefully in a pile of their own life decisions.

The table, once a pleasant shade of wood, now had a large dark stain beneath this individual. A stain that should never exist in nature.

As I get closer, I recognize the face.

Not a man. Not today, at least.

But Julia — a mentally unwell local wanderer, trespassed from more places in town than she was legally allowed to enter.

I try to wake her.

“Ma’am? Ma’am? …Julia!”

She snaps awake, disoriented, confused, and very clearly marinating in regret.

I ask what happened and why her pants are missing. She vaguely gestures toward the swingset.

I later find the pants.Full of liquid poop.Covered in flies.

A scene no academy instructor warns you about.

Julia explains — in perfectly calm, mentally unwell sincerity — that she’d been walking all day and got hungry. So she ate a week-old turkey meat log she’d been carrying in her bag.

Let me repeat: A WEEK. OLD. TURKEY. MEAT. LOG.

According to her, the turkey “poisoned” her. And because she was trespassed everywhere, she couldn’t find a bathroom.

So nature just… activated. And then she laid down on the picnic table for what I can only assume was a “spiritual reset.”

We gave her a blanket, offered guidance on basic food safety, and sent her on her way — because honestly, if anyone earned a nap that day… it was Julia.

Julia was just having a bad day

2. The One-Legged Mentally Unwell Wizard and the Marijuana Christmas Tree

Fast-forward to my current department. Early morning — the witching hour for calls involving the mentally unwell.

We get one:

“Someone’s trying to get into my house. I’m hiding inside.”

Solid call. Actionable. Let’s go.

We arrive. No forced entry. No footprints. Nothing.

Want to read more?

Subscribe to heimdallequipment.com to keep reading this exclusive post.

Subscribe Now