I wonder if life outside a psychiatric ward is actually madness

This first post may set the tone of things to come – my struggle with being alive – also my joy at it. I revel in some of the wonderful distractions science, music, relationships but sometimes find it hard just to breathe in and out.

So I live and work in the ‘real’ world, i.e.  not in a psychiatric ward. But I have spent as a patient and came swiftly to the conclusion that the patients were the sane ones but people outside are all slightly mad.

Because……… because people admitted to a ward to treat their mental health are in a state of forced honesty about their demons. Visitors say they are fine and at a glance the superficial dishonest world of work and social life come flooding back to me.

Life outside flies by at a pace stopping only when someone else gives me a nod of acknowledgement that they too are aware of an inner landscape and struggle with it. Those moments of being present with another, are so life affirming and rare.

 

 

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