I always remember how hard it was to hear. Not that there was anything wrong with my hearing, but the thoughts that ran through my mind at a constant pace were so loud they drowned out everything else.

There would be times my body would betray me, freezing in place, when what I did hear upset me, usually the sound of someone yelling. This was just..the way it was..and I didn't know any better. I never just enjoyed a sunset; it made me weep. A petty quarrel would become a dark silent rage. When I was happy, I was delirious. My times of sadness were so intense I wanted to die. All of this was hidden behind an impenetrable mask I felt compelled to maintain at all costs.

Through this fog, I do have some remarkably clear memories. At age three, at a neighbors house, I wondered what would happen if I hit the dog on the nose with a toy hammer. Predictably enough, I was bitten, and still carry the scar. This was the same year my sister was born, and I hated her for taking my parents away. I still have a picture of us with my Dad, sitting on the porch, her just an infant in his arms, and I can look at myself and see the madness..even at that age. Looking back at this picture was quite unsettling, as I could still feel the anger.

You may wonder how such a soft spoken person as myself can claim to be so full of contradictions as these, or capable of what I did. I can't believe it myself sometimes, but here I am, incarcerated in this tomb of an institution, while you, dear reader, are safe at home. I will try to explain the events leading up to this fall as best I can recollect.

Richard and I married quite young, mostly to escape the strict rules our parents insisted we follow. I realize now that it was my persuasiveness that finally wore him down, but I have always been good at that. I was fine for many years ... good years ... the dark clouds seemed to have cleared for a time, and I felt normal, like other people..or so I thought.

Sometime after our twentieth wedding anniversary, I began to feel uneasy, sensing my husband was drifting away from me. I began spying on him, until the thought of catching him in some indiscretion totally took over my life. I quit my job, and purchased an inexpensive car, which I kept garaged nearby. I took to wearing disguises, sneaking around his place of business, waiting, watching. All this time, I didn't realize how loud the noises were in my head, or even that they had returned. I had to catch him, no matter what the cost. And then, I finally did.

Sitting in the back of his favorite restaurant at lunchtime, I saw him touch his secretary's hand. Now, you may think that is nothing to be excited over, but I was convinced , in the haze that remained as my mind, that this was proof. The only thing to do now, was remove my enemy from the face of the earth forever. There was no room for hesitation and I moved swiftly.

I called the office the next morning, and left her a message about helping me plan a surprise party for my husband and his associates. The idea came to me at three in the morning; not surprising, since I never slept much in this state. Her name was Angela, and she returned my call when the office opened at eight, and we made plans to meet for lunch. I instructed her to meet me at an out of the way place for lunch which I knew would not be open. As she got out of her car, I descended on her with a tire iron, crushing her skull, and shoving her back in her car. That does sound awful, doesn't it? Well, it does to me too, now anyway. Not then though, for at that time I was righteously destroying the interloper who was trying to foil my marriage. I drove her car to the lake, and let it roll into the water, watching the car bob up and down for a while, then finally sink. It was kind of funny, watching the way it floated in the water that way. I had to walk back three miles to get my car, but it seemed like only moments.

At dinner that night, my husband was very quiet, and I asked him how his day was. He replied that it was fine, except his secretary had not returned from lunch, and he was quite puzzled about it. The next two days passed uneventfully, until the police arrived while I was baking a cake for Richard's birthday. I tried to convince them I had nothing to do with Angela's disappearance but in my rage I had forgotten about the message I left for Angela.

Well, I will be out in a few months, and Richard seems convinced that with the medication I will be fine. I am doing my best to follow all the directions the doctors give me, and they are pleased with my performance. Odd choice of words, because that is exactly what it is. After all, I will be very busy when I get out of here. I received a note from my sister, who informed me Richard sat next to a woman at church services last Sunday. I must remember her name for when I get home....

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