My blog posts are necessarily short these days because all I have with me in this hospital is a phone, and that doesnt give much scope for epic essays.
At 2pm today I have the psych teleconference at which my fate will be decided. I feel like I am being led to the gallows. They will finally realise how insane I really am and send me down to the Big House for good.
I want to barf. I want to scream, I want to bargain with the devil. Anything, so I can stay here and get better.
I ventured outside today. Its warm and sunny, birds are singing in the trees above the vineyard at the rear of the hospital. And despite all this beauty, I think of throwing myself over the edge of the hill. Or of running, running through the paddocks and off into the bush. Run run run. Run from it all.
I want to barf. I will be locked away.
