CRACKERS- SOME MENTAL HEALTH COMEDY

CRACKERS 

Here is my tale that rattles with truth. That my mental health today, is due to the nature and nurture experiment, we as human beings, experience. 
Let's talk about the experience, called depression. 

How do | know that there is someone outside my house, when I’m depressed? 
There’s a lot of knocking on my door, then they go away. 

How do | know that you are inside my house, when I’m depressed? 
You are talking to me, but i have no answers, nor words. 

| will offer, eventually, to make you a cup of tea. (pause) 30 minutes will-pass, and your cuppa won't have arrived. And most likely never will. But as you leave, you will notice my face, etched with guilt. Because realise that | never made you a cup of tea. 

How do you know you are in the house of someone, who is depressed? 
Their bookcase is full of self-help books, specifically on all facets of knowledge, on depression. 

Their favourite seat in their home, has a permanent ident in it. 

Their spice rack is full of half fill bottles of anti-depression medication. 

So what can | say that’s funny about depression, Nothing... 

A regular request...My doctor would say, 'have 3rest Tim...' 

You know you are having a rest, when you finally realise after three days, being in the same place, You’re in a fucken Psych-ward. 

The loudest, filthiest mouth, in the Psych- ward, is a Turecks/ Bipolar Catholic Nun. 

The Psych drugs they give you, are far more tripper the any recreational drug, you might have experimented with. 'Cracked...' 

All Psych drugs produce dry mouth syndrome, making you totally useless when required, to do group therapy (Action)

You know you're having a rest... 

The side affects of your Psych- drugs, turns the pattern of the carpet, into a wriggling mess of Snakes, Alive... 

A week into your visit, you are still jumping the Carpet Cobra, between rooms 3 and 4 

The Psych drug they give you, rapidly increases your core temperature, you immediately 
remove your clothes. However, if your immediate strip, is in front of female patients, this is 
how they going to react. 

The Bipolar women, are the first to react, sexually advance.

The Schizophrenics’, are discussing with their friends, how best to receive this, sexual reward. 

The Ladies who have multiple personalities, are rapidly switching to the host, who controls 
their sexuality. Result, Women who are 100%, sex-scary... 

The deluded ones, are trying to convince all the hyped sexual- Amazons, that the naked attack on their sensibilities, isn’t happening. 

The Addicts, depending on their particular taste... 

Heroin users, No libido, No Trouble. 

Speed/Ice users, Trouble 

Ecstasy Users, Big Trouble 

You quickly obey, the Panic in the Nurse’s voice, who is ordering you to put your clothes back on... 

You finally realise, why you need a Rest, then they change, your drugs. 

Ephiline, Cipermil, Zanex, Aropax, Zyprexa, Tegratol, Triptenol. My own personal chemical 
smorgasbord. 

Ephiline, you know you taking Ephiline, when the violent trembles you are experiencing, are not the result of high voltage, electrocution. 

Cipermil, when everyone around you has a golden glow, attached and surrounding them, then you look at yourself, you have become an Academy Award...(Action) 

Zanex, when after lighting a cigarette, which has taken hours, to get permission to have, on your first drag, (Action) you violently propel all your stomach contents. The little undissolved Zanex pill, on the floor, staring back at you. 

Aropax, when you imitate a boxer, who is having a Brain explosion. 

Zyprexa, when your brain tries to explain what it is thinking, by thinking what it is explaining and explaining what it is thinking. It goes on and on, revolving around nothing... 

Tegratol, when your former Druggie mates, keep making you leave your house, so they can pilfer your stash of Tegratol. 

Triptenol, when you experience altered realities, where you choose, to conduct selfeuthanasia, by dropping out of a tree.

As the drug takes its effect, you find yourself in an open plain, which has no trees and you haven‘t moved. Cracked 

A Current Affair theme plays... 

Announcement: 
Today the NSW Police Force, keep on getting it wrong. The Tactical Response Group, the NSW Police elite unit did, on Anzac Day 1993, raid the home of a former SAS operator. Because he had given training items to his former cadet unit. The 30 strong group, comprising of the Military Police, the Army bomb disposal squad and the aforementioned Tactical Response Group, it has been alleged to have used excessive force against Tim and his family. 

What do you get: 

When you put together, an xSAS operator, his Mum, his girlfriend, his sister, the local Police, the military Police, the bomb squad, the Tactical Response group, carrying sub-machine guns. 
(pause) You get your first Psychiatric Label. Acute Delusional, Persecutory type. 

Acute Delusional Persecutory Type, this happens when you are saying the Truth, the Police are saying their Truth, the court hears no Truth. Bugger me, but what's left, but to realise, that you must be Deluded. 

Persecutory type... Persecuted, no shit Sherlock, the only thing missing that night was a 
fucken helicopter. 

As for being Acute, damn straight, some women think I’m cute. 

So now | have a Label, that’s funny, more like Labels. The Psyches’ feel comfortable to give you a Label so they know which Box you fit in. | fit in a lot of boxes that require Labels. | have more Labels than a lost package, incessantly travelling the world. 

I'm also Bipolar, Dissociative Identity Disorder, DID, the old Multiple Personalities. | have and had Depression and Post Traumatic Stress disorder (PTSD). 
All of which, makes me a fun date. 

The charge I am facing is ‘Goods in Custody’ which is illogical and impossible. | had given the training items to an Army unit. | had returned the Inert Claymore mine, to the local Army cadets, the little soldiers. 

So I'm not a thief, I’m not holding stolen goods. No I’m stupid enough to be facing a criminal record for something that is illogical and impossible...Cracked... 

Let me explain; The inert Claymore mine shape, is the same as a real one. But an inert 
Claymore Mine is empty. A real Claymore mine has explosives molded around 700 ball 
bearings. The mine has four metal legs. Why, you would need more than two legs to hold up 700 balls. 

The inert Claymore mine is empty. But when weights are glued in, this simulates a real 
Claymore mine's weight. Now if you drop the inert claymore mine onto your toe, it will hurt. 
Because now the modified mine, weighs 1kg.

That one kilogram, was the reason for the bizarre Over-reaction, that required 30 embarrassed 
crime- fighters, to eventually realize, that metal weights, doesn’t equate to explosives and 700 
balls, which still requires more than two legs, to hold (Action) them up. 

An inert Claymore mine, is non operational, non lethal, non casualty causing. It a useless piece of plastic shit, that now, weighs 1kg. 

So what's the difference between normal and un normal, sane and insane, - One kilogram, 1kg. 

Welcome to the future world of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, PTSD 

PTSD - That’s when you are flung back to then-time, where no one would want to spend time, to be flung back to now-time, to realize you're the only one, who has lost time, in no time. 

You walk with your head down, eyes trained, two mts, to your font, just in case there are 
booby- traps/mines, in the middle of the city Brisbane, Australia. 

A car back-fires, you dive into the nearest gutter, feeling for a non-existent weapon, in the 
middle of Brisbane city, Australia. 

Your home gate sign reads, not like beware of the dog, But mine field ahead. 

As for myself, mine reads, No Inert-mines ahead. 

You get into an argument and offer non-commonsensical, points of view. But believe you have won the argument, because you where the loudest. 

The missus has PMS, and you are, far more dysfunctional. And you are still the loudest. 

So those Police, Military Police, Bomb Squad members, who are unable to read the word 
INERT, written on the training mine, are swarming around my Mum’s lawn, looking for 
something. Oh | get it; they are looking for real evidence. 

There were so many there that night, I asked my Mum to bring me 5 fishes and 2 loaves. Well I’m not Jesus Christ. 

There were so many there that night, with poor weapon handling skills, that | could've 
negatively critique them, for hours. 

There were so many there that night, with Sub-machine guns. That the SAS Regiment is well pleased with me, for choosing, not to defend myself. 

The SAS taught me how to use, guns, knives, bombs, electricity, and chemistry. And I have 
paid them back, by not using them. 

The SAS would always ensure that the, baby face operators always wore a balaclava. Why, so the Terrorist won't fall over, laughing himself to death. 

The Raid completed, the local cops wanted nothing to do with it, the Tactical Response group wanted nothing to do with it. The Bomb squad had already gone home, very apologetic. One female Military Police, had an ex SAS lad on a line, and she wasn't letting go. Power Tripper. 

Anyway, from the threat of 30 crime fighters, down to the threat of one, who wouldn't budge. 
Back to the threat of 30. 

So | take the blue-light taxi, Police car, to the Police station. So as a probable Terrorist, | get to ride up front, with only one state Police officer, in the car, un-handcuffed. Really, Seriously. 

| wish | knew back then, how to dissociate/switch. | would've switched, let one of the other 
ones, deal with this pile of crap. 

Multiple Personalities, Dissociative Identity Disorder, you switch from one persona to another. 
Confused, try living with it. 

You know you have switched, when, your girlfriend asks you to go to the shops, you return 3 days later, to a very infuriated woman. Who is more hurt and confused, because you are 
wondering, what's all the fuss - | got the milk and bread. 

You know you have switched, 

Your wardrobe, has someone else’s clothes in it. 

Your mouth tastes of cigarettes, but you don’t smoke. 

The bar you are drinking in, the people know you, but you haven't, a clue, to who they 
are. Then you realise, that you are over 300 kms, from your real home. 

You wake up in the long-grass, jungle/bush, (Pause) and you are in a establish camp 
that is obviously yours. But you haven't got a clue, to how you got there. 

You are carrying reading glasses around, but you never use them. 

Someone keeps changing my favourite Radio station. 

So with all these diagnosis, you can only assess, that your stuffed. Your fucked from the past, you've got PTSD. Your fucked in the present, your Bipolar, and your Deluded. Your fucked in the future because your multiple personalities are sure to be, future fuck -ups. 
So how do you placate yourself, when you are a fuck-up. You remind yourself that nothing is real. 

Gravity, if gone we would all realise that now we have to contend, to our true reality, we would all sense spinning at 1000 m/p/h, and be bulleting at 67,000 m/p/h. Due to the earth’s rotation, and its trajectory around the sun. No wonder some of us spin out every now and then. 
sometimes a lot. 

Vision, try this for a nothing is real moment. Your brain turns what you see upside down, so your sensibilities, are capable of accepting, the image. Which is now right-way-up. So if you 
stand on your head, this image, is our true reality. So is the pain. 

Magnetic Poles, in my lifetime, the magnetic poles have shifted, moved, rematerialize, 
somewhere else on the planet. So here’s the joke. Scientist believe that this pheromone, will send the world’s population, completely opposite - Bipolar. What is left will become right, up will become down. You normal people are going to freak. But for us, who have already experienced, up being down, right being left, we will be the new masters of the chaos. 

So be kind the mentally unwell, for when the magnetic poles, complete realignment. We might be the only ones, who can get you home. 

We might be the only ones, who can teach you, how to do your shoelaces up, Again and again. 

Maybe you’re cracked 

 

First Day in Court... 

You know you have began your first day in court, when the illogical and impossible, charges, grows exponentially, a lot more. 

When, your out of pocket expense are, a quarter years’ wages, for the Barrister. A full 
fortnights pay, for the Solicitor, that’s only one day’s work. 

When the Barrister, has the hide to ask you, to buy their lunches. You can’t refuse, because you have to ask him, to explain, what the fffff, was said in court. Plain as mud, Gobbly-Gook. 

You know you have finished, your first day in court. When, you get home, all the travel ticket stubs, plane, train and bus travel, reminds me of how | have crisscrossed the State, to avoid, non-existence surveillance. No Post Traumatic Stress Disorder symptoms there. 
Paranoid...you think. 

The hardest patient to treat for paranoia, is one who has sound reason to be 
paranoid...Professor Larry Evans. No shit Sherlock, Tim Roy. 

Paranoia, paranoid, it’s all about me... 

Paranoid with low self-esteem, no one important is looking for you. 

Some people think that you are paranoid, because you think some people are talking about you. NO, NO, NO. Real paranoia is when you know that everybody, is talking about you, then 
they start following you, whilst talking on the phone, with ear-plugs in. Everybody (Pause) 
please, stop it. 

You know you are paranoid, when | wake up, in my second story unit, to find an extendable ladder, on my balcony. 

You know you are paranoid and dissociated, when no one, within, will tell you how it got there. 

 

Lost Contact... 
| won, (b) Acquitted of all charges, (b) publicly stated that my evidence, (b) was far more 
credible, (b) than the Police’s evidence. (b) So now, (b) instead of 30 crime fighters, (b) against me, (b) | have tens of thousands of State Police officers, (b) who hate me, (b) because I’m innocent/right. 

Because I’m innocent/right, (b) the Magistrate, (b) forwards my case to the Commonwealth Ombudsman. (b) The Commonwealth Ombudsman, (b) contacted the Government, (b) who contacted the Commissioner, (b) of the Wood Royal Commission, (b) into Police corruption. (b) I lost contact. 

You know you have lost contact, (b) when your next address, (b) is in far north Queensland, (b) Australia, (b) in the deep, deep, rainforest, (b) at a property, (b) inappropriately named, (b) Bloodwood. Bloodwood, (b) yeah that didn’t conjure up, (b) some crazy notions. 

It's very embarrassing, (b) explaining to your girlfriend’s parents, (b) that their letters and 
documents, (b) which is now turned into paper-mache, (P) didn’t happen. 

Are you Paranoid, (b) when your next address, (b) is broken into, (b) but this time, (b) only 
papers pertaining to the court case, (b) are left out in full view. (b) Really, (b) Seriously. 

Well, (b) are you deluded, (b) when you report the crime to the Police. (b) But you know, (b) they already know. 

Are you Paranoid, (b) when, (b) a local Private Investigator, (b) tries to sell you, (b) an 
unregistered 9mm semi-automatic, (b) glock pistol, (b) |prefer a Browning 9mm, (b) semi-auto pistol, (b) myself. 

The Ombudsman report was returned. (b) It stated that | was falsely arrested, (b) and 
conspired against by the Police, (b) I’m the only man in Australia who has his own conspiracy, (b) and tells people about it. 

What happens when you have brought a State Police force into disrepute, (b) and my new 
State Police Commissioner requests you, (b) to roll a body that is believed to be booby trapped. (b) You get (b) new friends. 

How does an accused man in one state, (b) become friends with the Police, (b) in his new home state? (P) Very cautiously. 

The Ombudsman’s report was mostly blacked-out, (b) |thought he had let his kids, (b) attack the report, (b) with black texta. 

So what do you do, (b) when you realise that the Black-out text, (P) is hiding secrets. (b) You apologized to the Regiment for being too Bipolar-fried, (b) To realise that I had openly, (b) shared National secrets, (b) oops, (b) sorry (sheepishly.) 

Bipolar 
Here is my Bipolar acronym...(b) Backwards, (b) Interrupted, (b) Polarized, (b) Opposite, (b) 
Lost, (b) Alternate, (b) Reverse from all, (b) normal realities. 

As explained in the Bipolar reality, (b) left becomes right, (b) forward becomes backwards, (b) engage your target, (b) to your front, (b) became engage the range-safety officer, (b) to the rear. (b) Career suicide. (P) Cracked... (proudly) 

From elite Special Forces operator, (b) to the highest paid lawn-mower man, (b) in Australia. (b) see (b) when a clog breaks, (b) in the machine, (b) they give you a lawn-mower. (b) Why? (b)  Because within the SAS compound, (b) a lawn-mower is the only machine, (b) that isn’t designed to be lethal. 

Dissociation, (b) Switch, (b) Switching. (b) Do you know how funny it is, (b) when you are 
Bipolar-fried, (b) as a Special-forces operator, (b) point your MP5 Sub-machine gun, (b) at the range safety officer, (b) not so funny. 

Can't put the weapon’s, (b) safety catch, (b) from safe to fire, (Action). Very safe, very funny. 

You switch, (b) you are on 24hr Guard-duty. (b) One of us decide that we are going to attend, (b) our own house warming party. (b) Now two stuff-ups have been created. (b) The first, (b) | have disobeyed a direct command. (b) Big stuff- up...(b) The other, (b) the keys | have are for the Regiment's Armory, (b) that has the largest collection, (b) of weapons and explosives on the West Coast of Australia. 

So | get to the party to discover another stuff-up. (b) All of my Selection course instructors, (b) who are to me, (b) one step below God, (b) are there. (b) There | am, (b) Dopey, (b) in full dress uniform, (b) with their Armoires keys, (b) swinging on my hip, (P), No one looked welcoming. 

One of Jesus brothers, (b) handed me a phone, (b) whilst |was chatting to a half-naked Psych nurse, (b) in the spa. (b) Psych nurses and special forces operators, (b) mix well together, (b) go figure, (b) If you were smart, (b) you would marry one of them, (b) to save on therapy-bills in the future. 

Ordered back to do my designated duty, (b) for Queen and Country. (b) Those who witnessed my obscure behaviour, (b) put it down-to, (b) Who Dares Wins. 

| get lots of sex (P) It’s allowed, (b) I’m bipolar 

Thank you everybody for being an awesome audience, Goodnight...