Chapter 24

Life at San Diego Psychiatric Hospital was miserable. They only allowed you to eat with a plastic spoon or a plastic fork, but not both. Plastic knives of course were forbidden. I endured endless group therapy.

"Who wants to confess how screwed up he is today?" asked Dr. O' Campo, the grey bearded clinical psychologist. "Don't be shy."

"I'm Jesus Christ," said one patient.

"How can you be Jesus Christ, because I am," said another patient. The two started fighting until the army of psychiatric technicians took them away to their own private Quiet Rooms.

"Would anyone else like to volunteer how they've lost touch with all reality?" Dr. O' Campo asked. I finally raised my hand. "Why, Michael, we've never heard from you before."

"I'm getting bored to death here in paradise," I said.

"Dr. Sanglao, that has nothing to do how you've lost touch with reality," said the clinical psychologist.

"This ought to be good," said another patient who hadn't shaved in weeks.

I told everyone the story of the rosary bracelet and how God started talking to me. I told them about how I had been a Department of Defense physicist working in top secret defense laboratories. Everything ended when the Devil himself attacked me at SPAWAR, I told the group of mental patients.

"That's tragic, Michael," said Dr. O' Campo. "Can anyone suggest how he can improve his lot in life?"

"Attend group therapy, take meds, and always listen to the doctor," said Joey, the man who believed he was John the Baptist's brother. "If the doctor says it, it must be right."

"Excellent, Joey," the clinical psychologist said. "Can we all recite the mantra?"

"Attend group therapy, take meds, and always listen to the doctor. If the doctor says it, it must be right," the group of mental patients all droned, including me. They had programmed me well. I stopped thinking for myself by then. I just did everything the psychiatrists, psychologists, and the other staff told me to do. I was a prisoner all because I could hear the voice of the Lord.

"What did God tell you today, Michael?" said Dr. O' Campo. "You know of course, there is no God. That's why you're here."

"God said read Revelation 20:10," I said. I then got up and left. Group therapy made me sick.