Naturally I was rather out of my tree from sleep deprivation, and from my own death experience.
A rather odd perception of reality, which has persisted throughout the rest of my life to date.
Well. Cover up after cover up, I have finally come round after six months of detoxing from medications, to realise the total enormity of crassness of the Psychiatric profession... bar one psychiatrist who decided I was Abnormally normal, which makes me too fucking normal to have a decent life round you lot of abnormal psychopaths. I can cope with one at a time
Oh boy can I dish some dirt on the Psychiatric profession. Smoking or dirt, what is your preference?