I just kept reading… Could not stop, 🙂 and with lots of humour
I never really thought I was crazy. That’s despite the fact that a panel of three psychiatrists, a judge and jury of my peers, and an ongoing evaluation by a state-certified mental institution said that I was. Three years in the Hillsboro Institute for the Criminally Insane was like thirty years anywhere else. Screaming at night, crying and shouting during the day, and very few people you can carry on a reasonable conversation with.
In the back of my mind, I knew that if they ever changed their opinions, they would put me in a real prison: one where you got brutalized every day of the week, where your bunkmate requires more of you than just telling him a bedtime story, where every meal is another opportunity to get a shank jabbed between your ribs. A mental hospital, taken in that context, really isn’t so bad. Get past the mind-numbing…
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