WARNING: In the '80s of the last century, I was about 12 years old and my mother was worried about my psychological disorders with mild paranoid symptoms. On the advice of a friend or a doctor, she sent me to consult at the Decroly center in Lille. This was my first contact with a shrink. During the first session she presented me with a series of "Rorscharch tests". Then, during the second session, I made her listen to my first sound tinkering made on an audio cassette recorder modeled after the jingles of the first free radios. She found it great. When it was time to go to the psychologist for another session, I wandered around music equipment stores and visited art galleries. After the third session and an unjustified absence, the consultations stopped: the psychologist, annoyed by my carelessness, sent me home, and it was only much later that the doctors declared me "schizophrenic."
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