I quickly discovered that getting locked up as a nut case was more complicated then I thought. It would have been easier if my wife hadn’t selfishly insisted on having doctors and psychologists inspect me to try and figure out why I had apparently gone insane. Everyone who talked to me of course said that I was harmless even if I was a nut case, that’s because I am. I never wanted to hurt anyone to prove that I was crazy, in this case I hoped that words would speak louder then actions.
It was months, months of still living with mild responsibilities with my family, until the doctors finally gave up on me. There was one particularly determined one who was sure that I was just faking it since my insanity didn’t fall into any of his categories. He was right of course and I was starting to wonder if I shouldn’t have read up more on psychology before this so I could decide what kind of crazy I was going to be. Now that I am in the mental health hospital I understand that there are a lot of types to choose from.
Now that I’ve been in here for a while I am starting to get bored. I mean yeah, there are no responsibilities, which is nice, and I get taken care of, no worries, all of that, but the act is tiresome. I’ve slowly been letting it slip, not fast enough to cause any comments; I just can’t keep it up any more. People are starting to use words like functional to describe me which bothers me a little. If they decide that I can function that probably means that they will make me. I suppose the vacation is over, though it lasted long enough that I now feel ready to face to world again.
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