Chewytie

MoleHills
“Insanity: doing the same thing over and over
again and expecting different results.” -Einstien
I’ve never seen so many people in such monotonus routines fabricating fractions of their lives to make them seem more interesting to themselves. I am what is considered a ‘recovering mental patient’ I wouldnt say that personally thats just what Roxanne my therapist and the delightful people at the Oaks Mental Institution call me. Ever since they let me go my life has been back to normal, well, my normal.

I walk into the den where Jasmine is sitting on the auburn red couch, with a glad-to-see-you-but-we-need-to-talk kind of expression on her face.
“Roxanne called for you.”
“Really? About what?” Jasmine, my girlfriend of four years. She’s the kind of person who will stay with you unless you do something completely unforgiveable, or you go entirely nuts. Which makes me wonder why she’s still with me.
“When is your next appointment?”
“Soon. what did Roxy want?”
“Nothing, she asked what you were up to. You apparently cancelled your last three sessions.” ‘Sessions’ at Oaks after you’ve been discharged consist of you sitting and talking with someone about how not crazy you feel.
“You know how hectic its been at the shop lately Jazi, I just haven’t felt the need to go in a while. I’m feeling fine.”
“But three sessions?! And it dosen’t matter how you feel. Once your off your meds, who knows how you’ll ‘feel’.” The meds she’s reffering to are Clopixol. Little orange tablets used as an anti-psychotic. When I was at Oaks the doctors had said that I show severe signs of manic depression, Bipolar disorder, which explained my behavior. So they put me on Clopixol.
“I havent been taking my meds.” Now I wait for the explosion.
“That’s good.” She is way to good at sarcasm.
“Yeah, well I got tired of blabbering like an idiot when I’m taking them.” Clopixol has a side-effect that messes with your ability to speak, its nothing major but I sound slightly intoxicated when im on the pills.
“Well you seem to be alright, and thats all that matters I guess.” I can understand her dissapontment, she didn’t fall in love with a psycho, but there isn’t anything wrong with me.
“I guess I can stop in for my session.”
“Now? when is it?”
“3:00”
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When I get into Oaks for the first time in over a month I expected everyone to remember me, they didn’t. When you become a regular anywhere, people start to recognize you. I guess the opposite is also true. I get to the receptionist in front of the therapist wing.
“Name and appointment time please.”
“Chris Davies, 3:00.” The receptionist was the type who seems as if she was expecting to have her job require a lot more skill than a basic knowledge of english and time.
“OK, great, Roxanne is waiting in room six for you”
“Thanks Karen” She looks at me as if I shouldn’t know her name, and I wouldnt have known her name if it wasn’t for the desk tag with her name and official job title.

I get into Roxy’s office, Its clean, almost too clean. Its the stereotypical therapists office set-up. Desk, sofa, therapists chair. but along with the usual items there are a few uniquely ‘Roxy-esque’ decorations. an uncanny assortment of fuzzy pens in her little therapists pen cup. Her therepists bookshelf is impeccably color-coordinated. I wonder if this is just her professional appearence or if you would walk into her house and have color-coded and catalouged everything. She is the kind of peson who would organize their cookbooks according to date of creation of the dish. The only reason I don’t think she is obsessive compulsive is the fact that she’s a therapist at a nuthouse.

“Long time no see Chris, how have you been?”
“Not crazy, if thats what your implying.” This is going to be a great session, I can feel it.
“Thats good, so the Clopixol is working for you?”
“Sure”
“You seem hostile today, why? whats up? im all ears.” What a therapist thing to say.
“No I’m just a little tired, I’m back to work now. How have you been Roxy.”
Taken aback by the use of her nickname over the more appropriate ‘Doc’ or ‘Doctor’
“Um... I’ve been. Good. I’ve been wondering what happend to you, why havent you been coming to your sessions?”
“I think if you really cared that much you would have stopped by my house to see if I wasn’t dead.”
“I’m not allowed to, it’s policy. Anyway tell me whats been going on lately?”
“What do you want to hear?”
“Work, relationships, you know the whole nine.”
“I’m Back to work, and Jasmine’s doing fine. Come on Roxy if this is all this session is going to be I need to get out of here I have a life to live.”
Roxy’s a clever woman, she has the ability to get you to tell her anything, even if you dont want to.
“Tell me, how did you end up in here anyway. I’ve never heard your side of the story.”
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After I graduated high school I had three months to fill before I had to think about anything other than myself. A friend of mine had asked if I want to be a CivCop, which is just a civillian who helps cops essentially catch speeders. All I did was get in front of someone at a red light and increase my speed so they would follow me at least ten miles per hour over the speed limit, and a cop, who was sitting a distance ahead would pull over and ticket the driver behind me. Is it evil? some think so, but if your ever asked to do it, do it. There is a ton of money in it. Put it this way, with the money I made that summer I had enough money to open up my own computer repair shop. But that job wasn’t without its drawbacks. I ran into someone who I had helped to get pulled over and he destroyed my jaw with a solid right hook. Luckily the precinct I was ‘helping’ was willing to pay the hospital bill. After I got out of the hospital the precinct said they couldn’t use me anymore because I was to recogniseable. After I left I had a lot of money and nowhere to go with it. So I bought a small shop and started CD’s Comp repair. To be honest I don’t know how to fix computers, but people will pay $250 for me to tell them that they need to buy another computer, where are they going to get that computer? From me.

Im not a bad person.
Lie
Im helping people.
Lie
I’m making money

Now I’m Laying on the sofa in Roxy’s office spilling my life story to her like she’s going to write my biography.

This is when I meet Jasmine. Beautiful. Just gorgeous. She came into the shop with a computer problem. and I couldn’t fix it, so I just gave her a discount on the computer I made her buy. To this day she dosen’t know that I can’t fix a computer to save my life. I guess like all relationships ours is based on a very carefully set-up network of lies.

I’ll try to fix that.
Lie
I can do that
Lie
I love you...

I’ve never in my life been this open with anyone, she cracking me like an egg.

I move into her house six months after we’ve been dating. I said that I couldnt pay for both the shop and my apartment. so I moved in with her, it was great for the first day, until that night she asked me to sleep on the couch. I’ve always held a little grudge against her for that.

I’m running out of money.
Lie
I’ll sleep here, it’s fine
Lie
I’m glad I have you

Roxy is attentive, maybe too attentive.
“Well I guess your hours up.”
“But I was just getting started.” It’s amazing, I wanted to walk out after one minute now I dont want to after sixty-one.
“Maybe now you’ll come to all your sessions, right?”
“Maybe, just maybe.” Im coming back. “same time next week, right?”
“No, I ca- you know what, that would have been my day off, but I’ll be here. Just for you Chris.”
“Your sweet.”
“Bye Chris.”
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Don't mind the lines (there a personal stop/start reference.) I just need to get some feedback on this chapter (this is revision two)