More thoughts on insanity:

If you've been reading any of my daylogs over the past few months, you might recall my mentioning my landlord's son, Chris. Point in fact, he's certifiably insane. Bonkers. Out to lunch. Crazy. Mad as a Hatter. The list goes on.

In a very surreal way, I can identify with him- and feel very, very sad for him. I've been there and I've done that, bought the t-shirt, own the franchise. I spent a year in a facility, back when I was 9, and that experience taught me how to recognize reality. Good for me, eh? I still see the world at odd angles sometimes, but I'm aware enough of most peoples' perceptions on this world that I know how to interact with them without seeming nuts.

Chris isn't so lucky. And his family doesn't help any, either. They leave him alone in the house all day. He throws things around (furniture, dishes and whatnot), screams a lot, paces incessantly, rarely sleeps and is generally a pain in everyone's ass. I've been trying to reach out to him, to let him know that his behavior isn't helping anyone least of all himself. But he's just not getting it.

They throw him in the hospital for a bit and while he's there, he seems to alter completely. He becomes rational, apologetic, sincere, lucid, intelligent, kind... almost normal. But as soon as he comes home, within a few days, he's back to going insane.

Today he woke up another tenant in the house to tell him that he (the tenant) is Satan and that Chris will kill him in his (the tenant's) sleep. This tenant sleeps with a tanto (a short Japanese knife that is wickedly sharp and deadly if in well-trained hands) for security purposes. He's quite well trained in a few styles of martial arts. Threats make him jumpy and waking him up with one is not the way to start a happy day.

I've taken to changing the locks on my cabin. I'm not worried for my own safety, I can very capably defend myself in just about any situation, but I'm worried that what few worldly possessions I have might get smashed to bits by Chris. My cabin has two entrances- a conventional door with a porch and two barn doors. I've padlocked the barn doors shut and the regular door has a new lock and keys. I lock it whenever I step out of my home, even if only to go out and get some smokes.

Today I went into the house to talk with the other tenant, who was telling me about his absurd wake-up call. Before I'd left my cabin, I sort of "booby-trapped" the barn doors (which is the access point most often used by Chris when he decides I need a visit from him) so that I could tell if someone tries to open them while I wasn't there. When I got back to my (locked) cabin, sure enough, my ploy had worked- the throwing dart I'd gently balanced on the barn doors' handle had fallen silently onto the folded towel on my floor. Chris had tried to invade my little home.

I pay rent here. I live here. I work here. I sleep here. This IS my home. I don't mind people being in here when I'm with them, but I don't like knowing that people can just up-and-invade my home whenever I'm not around. I respect the privacy of other people and in turn expect that in kind, for others to respect my privacy- lunatics or not.

In the last hour I haven't heard any more screaming from Chris within the house. I would like to think that's because, when I realized that he'd tried to intrude in my home, I went in there and told him not to try it again. His response had been that there are some very bad things in this country. I told him that he was quickly becoming one of them, that he was coming unglued and that it wasn't "cool", it wasn't "healthy", that it wasn't going to do anyone any good, that it wasn't smart or anything positive- purely negative. I told him that if he's so concerned about bad things in this world, he'd better start taking a hard cold look at himself and that anything outside of himself was Somebody Else's Problem.

There is debris in the car port, where his mother usually parks her vehicle. When she gets home, she will likely discover the broken glass and other minutae that is scattered there on the concrete. I hope she's smart enough to realize what's been going on while she's been ignoring her son.