It looks like my post on depression was the most popular one. The absence of comments whatsoever demonstrates it quite clearly…
I did get a lot of private messages related to it though, thanking me for positing about the issue. Which led me to an obvious conclusion that instead of my philosophical abracadabra on the substance of madness (I will still talk some gibberish about it on occasions), people with mental problems simply want more advice.
As Nietzsche once said: “There is nothing in philosophy which could not be said in everyday language.”
And so, I will start with the following question. How to have fun when one is stuck in a hospital? (The psychiatric one, that’s it). Mind you, some of my tips will be good for life outside the hospital as well. But I am mostly concerned about those who think that if they find themselves in that place, then it means that they can’t enjoy it, life in general and that it is the end of the world.
And no, let me tell you. One can actually have a blast. The right attitude is the trick in the matter. It took me ten years, but I arrived there eventually.
For instance, a simple tip in case you can’t leave the hospital (usually, it means that you are sectioned), is to ask for a bath. They all have one and it is your right to soak in. Ask for the bubble foam (all hospitals stock it), take a magazine, or a book and go for some relaxation. I can assure you that you won’t be able to drown since nurses will check on you every couple of minutes. I used to have them five times a day.
However, if you can escape or leave without supervision, and you are short of money, then go straight to the biggest department store. Try to wear something presentable (borrow from another patient if it is a problem), and smile, smile, smile. Approach a make-up counter with a bored saleswoman working behind and you might end up with a total make-over. Get all samples which come your way. And if you are lucky you might stumble upon a promotion. On my last expedition (it was at Marks & Spencer) I drunk so much wine that I forgot that I was still at the hospital and returned home. Which leads me to another tip. I was driven back to the hospital by taxi, so desperate they were to have me back.
That was years ago, I have to say and I shall conclude with my final advice.
Do accept some medication. I know, it is like admitting that you belong wholeheartedly to the mental club, but on a right dose, you won’t lose too much. For instance, I can still see all my visions and hear all my voices, but we came to an amicable agreement that at night we all go to sleep.
And it’s better to enjoy a nice bath at home. I add to it some baby oil, which makes water nice and soft. And while I am in it, and by some miracle, on my own, I put on Robbie Williams’s Feel and sing along. I think that his lyrics do reflect the matter quite well:
Come and hold my hand
I wanna contact the living
Not sure I understand
This role I've been given
I sit and talk to God
And he just laughs at my plans
My head speaks a language
I don't understand
(watch the video on https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iy4mXZN1Zzk)
(picture found on animaltalk.us)