Last night, as I have so many futile times before, I believed that I had found my escape. I was producing my magnum opus. I lay with my face to the cold bathroom floor, dark spots growing in my vision all the time. I must have passed out. The nurses woke me. They were worried. They didn't understand how happy I had been when I believed that I was leaving. Such a soaring, swelling feeling. They assumed that I was depressed. I've been depressed in the past, and I know that I am not depressed now. I am living in heaven, with my wings in a straitjacket. I am so happy and so frustrated. I am so happy but I cannot express myself. I was working on my magnum opus last night. The nurses woke me, and I'm back on one to one observation. They don't understand that I was not acting out of despair. I tried to explain to them. Have you heard of "horseshoe theory"? For example, Hitler was a very extreme socialist, but he looked just like a fascist. Horseshoe theory. When I hit the extremes of insight, I realize, it looks like madness. They didn't take me seriously.

I am so frustrated and so irritable and so unquiet. I want my serenity back.