It's all hand written in pencil. Pages and pages and pages.... especially long were the journals when I was on table time. You sit on a bench in isolation all day every day for a few weeks. They wouldn't let me off until I agreed to attend raps. I wouldn't. these were nothing more than primal group therapy to humilate, exploit and demean people. The one goal of these writing assignments was to get me to admit I was worthless and dead without CEDU. The pressure was intense to admit CEDU was my savior; I was being threatened with lock up (Provo) even though I never made the transgressions tow arrant an extreme choice.... What was also difficult is reading my issues with my Mom. How inappropriate she was. Basically setting me up for first drug experiences and letting me live with kids in 20s for weeks on end in 7th grade so she didn't have to deal with the mundane life of a mother. How unprotected I was and how obectified I was... she didn't teach me to value myself... It is so strange to compare that with how I mother my own kids. I had forgotten some incidences and now I am sort of sorry I read them. I have to remember that she doesn't re-write history and basically validates my view of things. The only thing we can't really talk about is CEDU for soem reason. The sad thing was after table isolation and bans, I tried so hard to hang onto myself... but it wasn't enough. None of mey swritings were of a defiant little shit brat; they were all just questioning the methods there... and how much fear I lived with in constant degradation. I sure which this package wasn't sent in the mail.
Maybe I will burn them in a big ass bonfire.
I would keep them.
Even though you may think that you understand it all by this point, that is, the mindfuckery that you went through and its net effects, I'd wager that there are several more layers left to parse.
And this goes not just for what
you, personally, went through, but also as testimony for one more piece of the larger scheme of things, namely the indoctrination and inculcation of American youth, which, to
my mind at least, is part and parcel of the larger social engineering experiment that the U.S. embarked on in the aftermath of World War II.
Personal testimony rendered not as memory, but as a record of an individual's efforts to process, comply with, and yet somehow rebel against these social experiments
during the time in question are, without a doubt, priceless beyond what most would currently be able to recognize.
Just my personal opinion, of course...