Prison life is again your life until the 9th December. Two Psychiatrists prepare the last report. Everything looks promising for the 9th. A 99% chance that the judge will look favorably on the case and let me go. Assume nothing, conclude nothing. Thank God for the Psychiatric Profession. Where would I be without them? I would be charged with attempted bank robbery and be looking at a minimum 3 stretch. Three years would finish me off. This has been hard enough. I’m putting too much emphasis on time. N has been in since May 4th. He’s in court on Friday. On the outside time passes quickly, on the inside it passes far too slow. The recent events have taken their toll. I am numb. The whole experience has been disorientating. A man who lives in fear of himself and of others. Indigestion on the way. In one paragraph a whole week has gone already. Even the Psychiatrist said that I should have been in Hospital rather than prison. Should receive my court papers any day now. You’ve got to forget about the 9th if you can because it won’t come any quicker. It’s a poor diet in here and I’m comfort eating in with biscuits and chocolate. Everyone is rooting for you…apart from yourself. All you’ve got is your writing, your medication and cigarettes to get you through the next two weeks. Think about the others who are on longer sentences. You’ll be out by Christmas! This is just imprisonment .The weather outside matches my mood. From Prison to Psychiatric Hospital and back to Prison. A part of you dies in prison. Some survival instinct keeps you going. You’ve had loads of letters of support which you’ve had to read and re-read.
Arbeid (Work) over. 3 coffees, a cigarette and a shit. No post. Trying to keep the intrusive thoughts at bay. These intrusive thoughts that I can do nothing about have haunted me since a teenager. Thoughts that I give power to, thoughts that I fear, thoughts that I can do nothing about. Finished a good book called the Alchemist by Paulo Coelho, an excellent book about everyones personal fortune being found closer to home.
Being in prison you’re on a heightened state of alert, if you’re me it’s impossible to relax properly. I should have known that the cannabis would have dislodged something or was masking something. I was self medicating. Life is about choices and you have been making the wrong choices. The young psychologist in training told me to shout stop when the disturbing thoughts arrive. Also to write phrases down that you might find helpful. Positive Affirmations I believe they call them. I go from optimism and pessimism in the same thought! You have to focus. She said that I was good, polite and friendly. Nice guys come last eh? If Jeffrey Archer can turns two weeks time into a book then I’ll have to see what I can do about four months of bird. Doing Bird! I’ve been doing bird.
I need to come out of prison and become born again. If I’m allowed a second chance. I would really like to serve God after getting home, having the check ups, mentally and emotionally become stronger in the name of God. Become a fighter (metaphorically) like Muhammed Ali in his heyday. This is a jungle and this is the rumble in the jungle. Prison is the purgatory, the purging of the soul. Prison is the valley of the shadow of death and I know whatever happens on the 9th I will be closer to the other side where Jesus walked. I would be happy to devote whatever time I have left to restoring my and other people’s faith! I need to reaquaint myself with his teachings.(This was not religious mania as I was in the grip of post psychotic depression at this stage)
Where is this bloody advocate? He’s taking my freedom pretty lightly. He’s another one of these laid back types. A week to go now and I don’t seem to be noticing the medication. It definitely helps the sleep and must be stabilising the mood.
Òne thing it hasn’t done is sort out my paranoia! I have been paranoid since coming in here. It’s like the feeling of having a hundred pairs of eyes boring into your head and just a thin membrane to deflect the stares.