Trapped in a Reality Show?!

Hello folks, I’m glad to see y’all back at All Things Southern. Have a seat and let’s chat…~smile~

You may recall that yours truly has been harping about Reality TV for years now with very few exceptions. Swamp People and Duck Dynasty rock because they do. Enough said. However, I will always insist that there’s nothing real about a female person being willing to eat a Madagascar hissing cockroach to avoid being voted off a deserted island that’s actually inhabited by an entire production crew, thanks to an alliance that’s aligned only in the sense that Donald Trump and Rosie O’Donnell are BFFs.

Well, my gravest concerns are being realized. Certain psychiatrists claim they’re treating increasing numbers of people who believe they are stars in their own reality TV show with their every move being taped and shown world-wide. They call it the Truman Syndrome after that Jim Carey movie. Remember, he played a guy who discovers he’s lived his whole life on camera? Doctors are blaming this psychosis on the proliferation of social media and Reality TV. I can almost understand. When my sisters and I were teenagers, long before Facebook and Twitter, we had reason to suspect Mama of hiding cameras across the Ark-La-Miss. But once she explained that it was actually little birds bringing her reports on our activities, saner heads prevailed. Kind of.

But enough of that, out of deep concern, I’ve prepared five short markers to help you determine if your loved one is convinced they are trapped in a reality show without a script.

Number 5: They’re always asking you if the producers told you to say that.
Number 4: They insist on trying to vote certain people out of the family.
Number 3: They refuse to go to work or school because they have found the immunity necklace.
Number 2: They get defensive when you catch them talking to an invisible camera.

And the number one way to know if your loved one is suffering from The Truman Syndrome: They admit to hearing voices when no one is around.

Wait just a minute.
This isn’t funny.
Hello?
Hello—
I’m not saying another word ‘til I talk to my agent.

Hugs,
Shellie