*James dials in one of the bulky long range radios.*
"Uhh, hi. Just putting this out there for those who may want or in some cases need it."
"My name is James. I'm a counselor by trade... err, was. It's been awhile since I was paid to do it."
"If you want the help I can give, say so, but I have a few stipulations, ehh more like restrictions for my safety just as much your own."
*A piece of paper crackles near the microphone*
"Ahem... No criminal insanity, no cannibalism, no sexual deviance of the criminal variety."
He continues, "My training is centered around the talky talky stuff and my supply of medicines is LIMITED. Just as well, I am NOT certified to diagnose..."
"You are responsible for your behavior and if you attempt to harm me during a session I will put my life before your 'help'. The same would understandably be expected of you in any other situation out in the real world."
"I DO NOT do group work. If you feel unsafe coming by yourself, bring a friend. Do not bring your entire clan. I will not show up if you do."
There's a brief pause as the paper is put away, "I understand there are those of you who have poor experiences with mental health care, and rightly so, as no system is perfect... However, I am not the doctors of the past. I am not a nurse or an orderly. I'm a dude with a shitty beard who will ask you about your feelings and what you want to change about your life. If you have a mental illness, changing up your environment or routine may be helpful. Consider me an unbiased observer to help re-frame and re-evaluate what you may be struggling with."
"If that appeals to you. Please list your first name and a frequency I can dial in on."
"Over n out."
*James ends the broadcast and shifts himself away to something warmer.*