Mental disorders and the heads that live in them

Many are accustomed to consider depression a whim, anxiety disorder – troubles, mentally ill – dangerous aliens, psychiatric clinics – prisons with a particularly sophisticated system of detention, and psychiatrists – experienced sadists. But in reality, everything is not so scary and hopeless, and mental illness – it’s really a disease with an imbalance of chemicals in the brain, and not far-fetched “excuses” and not dangerous “obsession”. Why am I so confident about this? Because it’s been my life lately. But all in good time…

My name is Ksenia. I’m 25 years old and I can’t handle my own life. Doctors call it “recurrent depression” and “borderline personality disorder.” Recurrent – because it always comes back. And upset because I’m different, not the norm, perceive themselves and what is happening around. I went to a psychiatric hospital of my own free will.

They say that people get used to everything, but for the months spent in the asylum, I was not used to the cruelty of reality and the absurdity of what is happening. However, this place was not as frightening as described in books and movies. It is peculiar, viscous, as a fused tire, and sometimes the same black because of the sound sleep. But nuthouse tempers, teaches compassion and treats.

Everyone wants to be happy, and if you yourself will show a desire to be cured, the chance to get together with your doctor is great, and after some time you will start to get out of your own quagmire. Am I out? I don’t know. I still feel this rotten smell, but the breeze of freedom is already waving my hair, and the sun of adequacy sometimes begins to bake the top of my head.

In this book, I tried as sincerely and in detail to tell his story in the hope that I can at least slightly change the attitude of our society to mental disorders. I would very much like to prove by example that the diagnosis is not a stigma. Introducing the reader to the patients of the hospital, I want to destroy the stigmatization of psychiatry and prove that “psychos” are not alien to the “normal” world.

I hope I can inspire those in need to seek help and stop being embarrassed by their condition. I want to show my patients ‘ families which way a person who decides to undergo treatment overcomes and convey to them the importance of support and understanding.

I wouldn’t have been able to uncover the depth of the struggle against mental illness without the competent opinion of my psychiatrist. She helped me to understand the subtle nuances of psychiatry, gave valuable comments throughout the work on the text and allowed to give the book scientific objectivity.

My narrative would have been much less pliable without my friend’s zeal. It was he who tirelessly edited Chapter by Chapter, helped with advice and motivated to write further.

Of course, nothing would have happened without my parents , who created all the necessary conditions for comfortable creativity and did not get tired to support me.