"These walls are kinda funny..."

THE SEYSHANK REDEMPTION - DAY #9

“In clinical and abnormal psychology institutionalisation or institutional syndrome refers to deficits or disabilities in social and life skills, which develop after a person has spent a long period living in mental hospitals, prisons, or other remote institutions. In other words, individuals in institutions may be deprived (whether unintentionally or not) of independence and of responsibility, to the point that once they return to ‘outside life’ they are often unable to manage many of its demands;[ it has also been argued that institutionalised individuals become psychologically more prone to mental health problems.” Wikipedia.

Crikey. I was looking this up as I was am worried that I’m getting quite comfortable here; and actually had a really nice time on day nine. 

Woke up, did my press-ups and sit-ups, had a shower and trimmed my new goatee. Breakfast arrived and I sat with the sun streaming in through the window at my desk reading the news. It was a Sunday; so no workmen continually banging on the roof outside. (Don’t ask, I’ve asked family building experts what’s going on, and we can’t work it out.)

I always feel at my best first thing in the morning - and I actually felt great. I went outside and created my first ever ‘vlog’ - which at least I enjoyed making. (My viewing audience may not feel the same.) Given that feedback from some of my five and six-year-old audience back in Glasgow was that they were genuinely concerned for my wellbeing - I told them I had to watch out for the soldiers with machine guns - I’m happy that I appealed to at least one target group. (I was hamming it up terribly.) They also liked my report on the giant tortoises.

My pals in quarantine - the giant tortoises. Like me, behind bars.

Then I came back to my room and worked on some longstanding projects. Was lost in time (as referred to in a previous report) and then I had a lovely Zoom call with my sisters in Manly and Shoreham, plus Bridget.

In the afternoon I managed to get 8,500 steps done; my sore knee is recovering. I was listening to my favourite Avicii playlist, pumped up loud. There was a really cute little Seychellois toddler wobbling about in the yard; and I did swooping aeroplane movements as I walked past him. I enjoyed it - I think he was just utterly confused.

My quarantine home for two weeks. Don't be fooled - it looks a lot nicer than it really is.

I retired to the gazebo and met up with my inmate buddies. We discussed Seychelles politics (always a good topic here) and the upcoming Presidential elections. They think the opposition is going to get in.

Then in the evening I watched some CNN, and had my dinner. (This is a concern - I’m starting to like the food.) 

I’m still missing my G&T and a chilled Chablis or Sancerre. Or maybe a lovely light Provencal rose?

Then I scored off day nine on my wall, and it was time for bed. 

“…to the point that once they return to ‘outside life’ they are often unable to manage many of its demands…”

Oh dear. I wonder. Maybe this place is changing me?

”These walls are kind of funny. First you hate 'em, then you get used to 'em. Enough time passes, gets so you depend on them. That's institutionalised.” - Red, The Shawshank Redemption.

Just kidding. I’m fine. The sun is shining, I have a coffee, and I have only five more days!

Note: For the first 69 working days of lockdown, I sent an all-staff 'Good morning' email to my 90 Union colleagues. I then paused. I restarted sending morning messages whilst in government quarantine in the Seychelles, I had to go there due to a family emergency. I have published other emails on Linkedin, should you be interested.