under duress ·
18 January 08

I tell them what I think. I tell them what I feel. They tell me it’s bad. They tell me I need to go away. I tell them I don’t want to. They tell me if I don’t, they will call upon the mental health act and force me to go to hospital. I back down. I tell them ok. I tell them I won’t resist. They say good. They say get ready.

I should have killed them when I had the chance.

besieged ·
15 January 08

I have a million thoughts rushing around my head. I have neither the desire or the energy to write out how I feel. I am doing this as best I can. My arm is in pain from holding the phone for so long, talking to my psych. The topic of conversation was my last blog entry. It triggered some silent alarm bells I think, or perhaps that’s exaggerating the truth a little. I’m not certain. It’s difficult to type when your arm feels locked in position, a position which to get out of you have to suffer some mild pain. There’s...Twist the teats for more

weakling ·
5 December 07

So I went to see my shrink yesterday. It was scheduled meeting, and I wasn’t expecting the shrink to be there to be honest, I thought I’d be meeting Joe Nobody and repeating myself. I was grateful, I guess, to see a familiar face there. I had to sit and wait for about thirty-five minutes before someone came to get me. I was going to make a scene, make a complaint about the lack of time keeping that was being managed. Perhaps I would shout about how I’d like to stab somebody repeatedly unless I was seen in a timely fashion....Twist the teats for more