readme written: August 4, 2017

This was my first effort at documenting the bizarre things that were happening to me all at once beginning around January 18, 2014. All of these pages were written while I was still at Saint Joseph's Behavioral Health facility in Stockton, CA. I asked them for paper, and if they told me they didn't have paper, I used the backside of coloring sheets they had provided for us (that is what that picture of a cat is). There were pens available to use at first, but as i was writing the narrative, suddenly only red pens were available. (I didn't learn until many months later that Kurt Cobain's suicide note was written in red pen, on the back of a scallop-edged restaurant placemat.) By the end of my stay, even the red pens were gone and they only had short little golf pencils available.

(There seem to be a couple pages missing; not sure why. Probably a privacy issue. I use my android to take photos, but don't consider photos on my android to be private.)

I was sharing a room with a woman who called herself Renee (she went by a couple of names, but Renee is the one that I remember). I left the room for breakfast on the final morning, and placed this narrative in the bottom drawer. When I came back to my room, the papers had clearly been rifled through, and replaced in a mess. I said to Renee "someone went through my stuff!" and she told me it wasn't her, and I believed her. She was actually very nice to me, and it appeared that she was being persecuted for that somehow. For example, there were coloring sheets around featuring cats and clownfish. Someone (not Renee) colored a picture of clownfish, wrote "Renee" on the top (or maybe near one of the fish), and then posted the sheet on the wall of the nurse's station.

When I left the facility the final morning, there was an angry-acting black woman there who I hadn't seen before. She seemed to be important. Her hair and clothes made her look to me like she was from the east coast or D.C. - she did not look to me like she was from northern California. After being locked up for 5 days, with nurses making all these insinuations about explosions and manufactured suicides, when they finally released me, they told me to walk out into the parking lot and I was literally afraid someone was going to kill me out there. I asked for someone to walk out  with me. The black woman said something to me like, "I'm warning you!" as if by asking for an escort I was doing something out of line.

The narrative is based on my understanding of events at that time - I came to understand more later on. It is incomplete because I stopped writing it once I was released. A couple months later I began rewriting the narrative (2014-04_narrative)