It is afternoon. I've been posting these things during the times I cannot sleep, so it's kind of weird that I'm actually enjoying this stupid journal. Gives me something to do I guess.
I feel pretty alone here. I don't connect with these people as much as they connect with one another. I guess I do have a paranoid personality disorder...
This morning we had a group meeting. One of those "Therapeutic Community Meetings". It was so stressful today and didn't help me feel relaxed at all. First Nurse Ratched was trying to get someone to open up voluntarily. No one said a word, which of course is pretty awkward. Then, she made someone talk, Harding. She wouldn't stop asking him about his relationship with his wife back at home. I guess they've had some problems, him being crazy and what not. She kept nagging the poor guy to talk about it and it was pissing me off. I didn't say anything though, I didn't feel like getting punished for having some sort of attitude. I just sat back and observed the awkwardness of the conversation.
I guess McMurphy raped some fifteen year old. He claims she was seventeen though. He's thirty-five years old...I couldn't see why even raping a seventeen year old would make it any better. But whatever, that guy is crazy. I knew there was something weird about him. Couldn't trust a guy after hearing that...
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