Too great a sense of social justice!?

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Let me tell you all something about myself. A series of events which led me to be incarcerated in a remand center for nearly five months, while my trial was being heard.

This process was delayed because I was only offered "TeleCourt" throughout my hearing. TeleCourt is video link-feed to the court room my case was being heard. I was petrified of the police as they had threatened me with some very nasty things while I was spending some time in the police stations remand cells. Thankfully, the remand center itself wasn't filled with so many violent officers. One did tear my neck open with a shoe string, however. His name tag said "Anderson." I thought the TeleCourt was a lie they were telling me and the video recording which displays your own face on the screen as well was some sort of interrogation process.

I acquiesed to the hearing which was further delayed by lack of a psychological assessment which was necessary as I was unwell at the time. And this fact of being unwell actually led to my release (on a Community Corrections Order, CCO). I was allocated a "good" magistrate, and myself had a barrister for my defence, due to the nature of the complications of mental illness and the severity of my actions, was afforded me by legal aid. I suspect my lawyer determined that I could use better representation than he could offer. I was pleading guilty after all, so I was asking for special circumstance type of exemption from the mandatory sentence of two years jail.

My time in there was difficult as I don't handle boredom well. I would collect a bunch of books from the book shelf, and read a part of each one, before moving on to the next one only to do the same. I suppose I was trying out a suggestion made by a youtuber I once watched on the topic of reading and books. She said she was trying out this new idea of reading many books at once but reading each on a regular basis. The idea intrigued me a little at the time, but it wasn't until I had nothing better to do to better myself or to spend my time, then I took the opportunity to try it out on board.

I also had some chess playing companions who would offer me some pretty interesting and occassionally surprising games! We would stroll around the yard talking about tv and life, and whatever interested us. He was a Tongan. I love Tongan's for their beautiful approach with others. They're always smiling, and friendly. Honestly, they are awesome. I came across a level of friendliness in a part of Australia I was fortunate enough to live in for a short time. The place was in South Australia. The roads are stuffed but they have the decriminalised marijuana part right.

I decided while I was inside that I would quit all drugs and even the ciggies (although smoking had been banned in all Australian Prisons, I still managed to smoke), although since getting out I was using drugs for a short time while I worked on my addictions, I managed to give most of them away. I'm still working on the ciggies, and the weed I've practically given up. Not using anything else anymore has spurred me on to greater successes such as going back to uni, and even contributed to me beating a severe depression I had developed while in "prison." I was suicidally out of control and attempting frequently while inside. Once I really could have done it but hesitated and only injured myself. I was so scared of being successful with it.

I got into a few fights while I was inside, partly because I was unwell, and partly because I have social issues which along with other people with social issues of another nature, we simply didn't get along! I spent some time isolation because of this, and was admitted to the Acute Assessment Unit (AAU), where I found my time spent much better on being released into the community there. I got along well but refuse on principle to maintain contact with any of them. That part of my life is over.

I went back into main stream prison before I felt ready to leave the AAU. I found that I knew some people already and it was okay, but I really just wanted my freedom back. I retreated inside my cell for most days, only venturing out for meals, muster, some sun light/exercise, and the ever annoying 'check on my washing.' I would spend all my time in my cell reading, or writing letters to my family. I kept them more upbeat than this morbid approach to talking about my crime.

This isn't my crime for being imprisoned, but it's relevant because it's the court appearance for which "crime" I was in the vicinity of the crime which my post relates to. So here goes a part of my life which I've long left behind, it involved a period where I was ingesting a lot of synthetic cannabis. I'd stopped my car on a busy road (safely, and to the side) so I could smoke some "synthetic" I'd bought while in the city, solely to procure it, and on my way home which was apparently too far away or too long to wait. Anyway, I laid down where I thought I was behind my car but not on the road.

A car pulled up behind mine and the sole occupant approached me, asking what I was doing there, etc. I said I was ok, and the rest is hazy, as he told me he was a police officer (off duty) and was arresting me. But because he wasn't wearing a police hat, or didn't show me his badge - nothing! I thought he was some dork trying to make me believe he was a police officer. We got into an argument about whether I could smoke some more synthetic, and he grabbed me by my forearms. I kicked him in the shin, when he refused my several outcries to stop being assaulted. The charges of assaulting a police officer were reduced to common assault. If I could have afforded legal representation (instead of legal aid) I would have argued self defence - since I knew my attack to be mild and being man handled in the first place is instigation, plus I had given him ample warning.

So, I was at court pleading guilty to assault by kicking to the shin when the matter was adjourned. I actually had this court hearing on TeleCourt from the Remand center. I had a knife in my pocket that day. I was planning on using the small serrated edge kitchen knife at a local restaurant which makes nice quiche' but which offer poor utensils. There by I had a knife in my pocket - although, I wasn't new to this at the time, because I walked at night throughout the city and often happened upon dangerous situations. I never needed to produce a knife in my life, at least until this day . . .

Mum and I were arguing as we left the court house. Well, maybe I was just being stubborn because I was unwell at the time, as I mentioned. I'd been hearing voices but I didn't tell anyone. I was really paranoid about the authorities, because of my dealings with 4 chan and the like (don't ask how an aspie suffering from psychosis manages to communicate their problems). I suppose that privacy and anonymity were at the forefront of my special interests and I felt persecuted because of my interest in the possibilities we might all be entitled, if many only knew what was really at stake amongst all these falsely used anti-terrorism clauses (another special interest I had was Islamic Terrorism, or desire for a lack of - to be more precise, I became a right-wing extremist for a period of time; I was a genuine Islamaphobe.

Forgetting to continue, I've digressed once more; now I reveal what happened. A larger built man bowled a young boy into a hand rail which ran alongside the footpath the man walked on. He was out of the way but the man had a total disregard for the boy. He then tumbled down the footpath after a younger girl (yet) and trampled all over her foot as he dragged her from trying to escape him. He put her on his lap, facedown and pinned her down with his arms as her arms and legs frailed helplessly by each of his sides. She screamed the whole time.

The by-stander effect nearly took over while I was stunned at what I just witnessed. Then I realised this menace needed to be sorted out. So I found the knife in my pocket and turned the blade away from me. I put the "blunt" side to his throat from behind, while he sat there enjoying the spectacle which was himself. I slid the "blade" across his neck before putting the knife away in my pocket again so we could finish the confrontaton without the presence of the knife, and so the kids would see that I had it (as neither of them did). He left (what turns out to be) his kids for dead as he ran for cover in an office of the medical clinic which he was visiting. I smashed the office door window as he smirked at me from behind a locked door, trapping himself inside with a female staff member - naturally I alerted her prior to breaking the window.

tl;dr
I attacked a man with a deadly weapon for physically abusing two very young children, although I didn't use deadly intent. Social justice, or simply poor judgement??