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Charlie’s personal blog

The psych asked me to start a journal. I told her I wouldn’t do it unless she let me do it online. Yes, I repeated to her, so that anyone could read it. Shouldn’t that be the point?

First of all, I don’t think I’m insane, and neither does anyone else, it appears. I suppose that’s a good thing, though on some days I was hoping for a “One Flew Over the Cuckoos Nest” fantasy sequence (have you seen that? Never knew Jack Nicholson could be that young!) where I’d heroically lead the patients in revolt. But I never got that far.

Is that my problem, anyway? Constant need to be a rebel? Always looking for a movement, whether it needs to exist or not? I’d throw in a few obvious anger issues, though you probably worked that out by now. The psych took five minutes to decide I was rebelling against my father, but I think that’s too easy. No, definitely too easy. We’re not talking about my parents here anyway.

So they’ve recommended me for some program now. I thought assaulting a couple of coppers might actually get me some jail time now, but…

 

… Yeah, yeah, I know you’re wondering why, if and how I would actually want jail time? Change of routine maybe? Because I actually might even deserve it?

Jesus… I think they’ve started to instil some guilt into me. Maybe that’s the therapy working, I don’t know? Sometimes I just want to sleep for a few years and wake up when the world looks better. Maybe that’s what jail would feel like.

Anyway, this program. They looked at my school results, my psych scores, my… record of activities, and think I actually still give a shit. I guess I do write well, and stir up a crowd with a few choice turns of phrase, but I don’t know what this collection of skills is going to do for me. I was going to uni most likely, although I guess that was just another chance for four more years of activism. The crushing burden of an academic future doesn’t look so good right now.

Next week I have to meet this woman. Amanda Blundell. I swear I’ve seen her name before but I can’t remember why. They obviously don’t think I’ll try to scratch out her eye sockets on first contact, so I guess I’ll go along and see where things end up.

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