The demize of a King-Size

Greta wanted me to witness her signature on a mortgage application. Her and her partner are going to buy a house together. Not get married – they don’t hold with that institution, and who can blame them.
She says it will look better if it is signed by a ‘member of a profession’. A bit of an irony that, eh? I am incarcerated in a psychiatric hospital against my wishes and yet my ‘professional’ status still carries weight.

The lesbian rang… was it yesterday or the day before? Pestering me about the ‘equity release’ business. I told her where to go. She retaliated by informing me that she has chucked out the marital bed! Said it held too many memories – and several stains.

How about that for cheek? It was king-size, and her and the Swedish tart (oh yes, they’re speaking again) couldn’t get it round that awkward bend in the stairs. So what does she do? Only sends for old Walt (sexton and gravedigger) to come round with his chainsaw! Cut it in half, he did. MY BED! I only wish he’d slipped and cut HER down to size while he was at it.

I told John, my schizophrenic friend, about it. He weighs 280lbs, and when the radiators are going full blast – which they always are - he smells.
He hears voices, telling him to do things – horrible, violent things. Most of them come from the old Long Playing Records in his eclectic collection. He can hear them – insidious and tempting, an insistent hiss underneath the lyrics. When he cannot stand it any longer he takes all his records back to the shop and sells them. They keep them, knowing that in a couple of weeks he will be calling in to buy them back.

He tried to hang himself from a lamp-post. I don’t think it was a serious attempt - he was being ‘harassed by the neighbours’. He calls this place ‘Heartbreak Hotel’, nevertheless it provides a refuge when things become too difficult for him in the ‘real’ world.

He has threatened to ‘bop’ me a couple of times, but he is not dangerous. He is more likely to hurt himself than anyone else. Of course, because of his size and obvious strength, he can be quite frightening when he gets upset. That is, frightening to those who don’t know him. We get on very well. He shows me his drawings: very violent – torture, stabbings, decapitations, blood flowing all over the place. He has quite an eye for line and colour.

Freddie encourages him to draw, always asks him to bring his drawings to the group therapy sessions. Oh yes, we have group therapy – more about this later

John says he is addicted to women. He says there should be a W.A. (Women Anonymous) just like there is an A.A. and Gamblers Anonymous. Someplace you could ring, 24 hours a day, whenever you got a craving for a woman. And they would send someone round (not a woman, obviously) and they would stay with you and talk you out of it.

He might have something there.