From the full version of Sunnyside's Lousy Book
What was it?
As I expressed my concern of the rumors that had been going around at the time, my friends or family didn't want to talk about the situations with me, but oddly enough they kept telling me I should talk to someone. As a result of my concern for the drugs that they had put in my drinking water and I wanted to be able to prove that it happened. Someone advised me to go to the Health Department and have the bottles of drinking water tested. At the Health Department I learned they wouldn't do such a thing. They told me I would have to go to a lab to have them tested.
Another thing I thought of doing is go to a medical lab and have my blood screened, but at a medical lab I learned that I needed to have a doctor to order such a test and then they suggested going to the hospital to get a referral from a doctor for the tests I wanted. At the hospital’s laboratory and got the same kind of run around. I was told I had to see a doctor before such test could be performed and the only way I could see a doctor without an appointment was to go to the emergency room.
It didn't take long before I had picked up a tail. While I was at the counter in the emergency room, a cop showed up. Stupid Rule Number 88: The Cat that knows its Shit, can Smell it Coming. He led to the conclusion that Affirmative Action was at work. Before I was able to see a doctor, I could hear people talking about me. They were told of the nut case who came in with the “poison in the water” bit.
When I finally did get to meet with a doctor, he said even if drugs were found in my blood, there wouldn't be any way to prove that someone had drugged me. He said a person would have to be caught in the act. Basically I knew that, but I wanted the test just to be able to back my theory because people around me knew I only smoked pot and knew I was strongly against the use of other drugs. The doctor seemed to think I was some nut case and said I would be alright if I only ate food that was unopened. He said it was his impression I just needed to talk to someone and then gave me a phone number to a crises clinic.
I thought of his referral to the crises clinic as another possible set-up. Since my life needed some sort of stimulation, I thought I'd see where it would go because I had to admit the curiosity was there and there was no other way of finding out if my speculations were true without going through the motions. But just like I said before, it’s easier to say within the game you are in, than it is to change it. The only way I could find out it I would be in another game was to play along with it. I knew talking to a crises counselor wasn't going to solve any of my problems, but for the heck of it I called the number one night. I wondered just what kind of advise or comforting words they would have for me and there wasn’t any other way to find out but to knock on their door.
I made the call and found myself talking to a younger gal setup with a list of prescreening questions. I felt the conversation was going nowhere and I assumed that she didn’t have a clue to as who I was. I got into a spiel about patent laws but found myself talking way over her head on the subject. The spiel was supposed to sound like another conspiracy story and about the patent laws how ideas are stolen with phony paper. Her reaction was pretty much like I expected, that is; she didn’t know how to respond. In the end, even though she sounded somewhat regretful to do so, she set me up with an appointment to meet with a counselor.
I was sure my phone was tapped and I knew I would be walking into another set-up situation, but curiosity made me want to see where it would go, because I knew I was creating my own game and I was sure I would have the conspirators working on it. I confirmed the game was on when I went out-side to start up my truck on my way to the appointment and I heard the neighbor guy say, "He's going to go see the shrink!”
Furthermore, shortly after arriving at the reception desk, (I think the place was called Greater Lakes Mental Health Center.) I overheard something leading me to believe that the ladies there were talking about me. Though they could have been talking about someone else, I was pretty sure they were talking about me. The spoke as if “he” was a real mental case and that “he” would be coming back for the next six months. At that point I couldn't be sure they were talking about me, but I figured I'd put on a good act for them and see where it went.
As the meeting with Kimberly W. Braswell, M.A. – Crisis Intervention Specialist -- began, I was looking for some type of indication that would lead me to thinking she had some information about me. I knew something was up when she mentioned some of the legal aspects of the confidentiality of our counseling session. She said that what we'd talk about was confidential and it would take a court order before she could release any information about our discussion. She lead me on that she was some kind of authority on the legal aspect of the situation and got into a spoof about the only way I could be committed to a mental institution was if I was putting myself or someone else in danger or threatening to do so. That little spiel gave me the he bee gee bees and I wondered what kind of game I was getting myself into.
I'd predicted that there would be a bug in the room, but I found myself afraid I might have walked into a set-up where I could find myself being committed and that wasn’t the game I wanted to play. I began to worry about the kind of experimental drugs they could pump into me if such thing did happen. I felt if they did commit me -- I might not ever be the same again – if I ever got out on the streets again.
I acted as if I was there because of relationship problems and started out by talking about past relationships. It didn't take long before I heard some guy mention something about me in the hallway outside the room. Then I cut to the chase because I wanted to see what kind of reaction I would get from her. I told her about the conspiracy and how the local government was trying to cheat me out of patent rights. In return, she was trying to act as if it was all in my head. I figured she'd been miss lead so I showed her some pictures of my truck to prove to her that what I was talking about was true. She agreed that my truck was a good idea, but I realized she was in on the game because she tried to down play the conspiracy bit.
She tried to tell me that my problem was that I was probably suffering from sleep deprivation. She suggested I get some sleeping pills, but said so by using a complicated pharmaceutical name for them. Because of my suspicion of a game involved with the meeting, I thought wonder if there was a goal to get me so depressed that I would overdose myself on sleeping pills if I had them readily available.
I decided to tick things up a few notches and play into the game I felt they wanted to play in the first place. I made up some tears, played into the phony rumors. I told her about how they were chasing my jobs out from underneath me and about the rumors they were spreading around. “I didn't mean what they’re saying,” I said. I asked her if she would testify for me by saying that they were trying to drive me nuts and that I was temporarily mentally incompetent to be held accountable for anything I might have said.
The next thing I noticed was a man's voice down the hall, "We got him again.” I told her I had just heard a man's voice in the hallway and repeated what he had just said. I told her I thought the whole meeting with her was just another setup. She denied anything going on and acted as if I was just hearing things. I knew what was going on and she couldn't convince me otherwise. Stupid Rule Number 88; I knew I was in the game.
I told her about the drugs they put drugs in my water and it got quite the reaction out of her. The next thing she said was, "Don't say anything to anyone about people putting drugs into my drinking water. If you say such a thing, you'll be committed to a mental hospital.” When she said that, I realized she must have been preconditioned to tell me certain things because it was a contradiction of what she had said earlier.
Thinking back on the experience, it’s a good chance that she had been wearing an ear piece and taking instructions from another person as our discussions progressed. I figure it’s one of the two ways I could have heard the man’s voice. Chances are that I had heard the voice through the door via hallway, but if she was listening to it through an ear piece, I might have heard the voice via her ear. Who knows? – Stupid Rule Number 26.
At the end of this ordeal I got the lady to admit that she had no credentials and that she was merely a volunteer. Once the meeting was over and I made it back to my truck, I felt relieved I didn't find myself in the loony bin. I felt I’d been playing in dangerous territory and realized it wasn't exactly over yet. The up and coming evaluation the court system was about to put me through was another thing I had to think about. I wondered if I'd end up with a man or a woman and whether it would be a minority who would be evaluating me. I was hoping for a man that would realize the significance of my truck. That is; if he wasn't in on the game. Never the less, I realized, that just postponing a trial with an evaluation was only getting me deeper into their game, and that didn't seem like a very smart thing to do because we all know about Rule Number 50.
The next chapter of Sunnyside's Lousy Book is:
Doctor hah? Of what, may I ask?
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What was it?
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