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There are consequences to your actions, people. Never forget that. I’m not
saying that I’m being punished here, but my website does get read by a
number of people, including the jail’s personnel. Based on my weird last two
installments, it has been suggested to me that I start to struggle more when
I’m unable to have my usual weekly therapy session, for whatever reason. I
don’t think it always matters so much what she and I discuss, just that I
have time to talk to someone who has been trained to listen and try to
understand others. I think that’s a fair assessment. Just looking back on my
past posts, and reflecting on my recent life, it sounds about right that I
go a little crazy sometimes. I think I was meant to have group sessions all
along while I was in jail, but I sort of forgot about it, and the
expectation is that I manage my schedule myself. No one is going to force me
to talk to anyone about anything in particular. Some people are given more
detailed sentences in this regard, but mine was purposefully vague. Even so,
it’s a good idea, so I participated in group on Saturday. I didn’t really
want to participate directly. In fact, I think maybe it should be
expected that a newbie keep their mouth shut on their first day, and just
listen to the veterans first. I don’t mean to imply that no one has anything
worthy of being heard during their first session, just that it might foster
a safer and more welcoming environment to not introduce people so shockingly
suddenly to an established group. Give us time to acclimate, ya know?
Well, I was forced to talk, because as I’ve explained, I’m kind of famous.
Some were not happy that I was there, and/or not happy about the
developments on my website. Due to my belief that I’m a traveler from
another universe, they think that I should be given stricter rules when it
comes to my personal mental health journey. I’m obviously crazy, and need to
be medicated, heavily therapized, and maybe locked up 24/7. I must say, I
totally see where they’re coming from. If I’m so convinced that time travel
is real, then a group session where I talk about how much I miss my dog—who
is supposedly being taken care of by an alternate version of me—is probably
not enough. It might be taking time away from people who have more grounded
problems. If I were trying to work through what they perceive to be my
delusions, that would be a different story, but since I’m holding firm to
them, and the group leader is making no effort to change that, I imagine
that that can get pretty annoying. That’s one reason why I didn’t want to
talk the first time, and why I don’t know if I ever want to talk at all. I
am from another world, and I’m never going to claim otherwise,
because it would be a lie, and that would be worse. I hope that my fellow
patients can learn to accept that, as I make an effort to accept their drug
addictions and domestic violence issues, which I’ve never had a problem with
personally. For now, I have no reason to believe that I won’t be able to
have my regular private session with my own therapist this coming Wednesday,
so hopefully I can get back on track then. Oh, and one more thing, for this
Sunday’s social media post, I wrote this cryptic question about a snake
eating its own tail in real life. There’s no hidden meaning behind that. I
just didn’t have anything real to say, so I just kind of randomly started
typing words, and that’s what came out. If you interpreted it as a puzzle,
or thought experiment, or something, don’t worry about it anymore. I just
don’t like to skip days. Maybe I should talk to my therapist about that.
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