(no subject)
This is possibly the only positive thing I got out of physio. It is a story from my book:
[A psychiatrist] asked me if I was suicidal, and I reluctantly told him yes. I did not particularize--since there seemed no need to--did not tell him that in truth many of the artifacts of my house had become potential devices for my own destruction: the attic rafters (and an outside maple or two) a means to hang myself, the garage a place to inhale carbon monoxide, the bathtub a vessel to receive the flow from my opened arteries. The kitchen knives in their drawers had but one purpose for me. Death by heart attack seemed particularly inviting, absolving me as it would of active responsibility, and I had toyed with the idea of self-induced pneumonia--a long frigid, shirt-sleeved hike through the rainy woods. Nor had I overlooked an ostensible accident...by walking in front of a truck on the highway nearby...Such hideous fantasies, which cause well people to shudder, are to the deeply depressed mind what lascivious daydreams are to person of robust sexuality.
That is just a hilarious view on depression. I mean come on that is hilarious. Frank Sinatra would approve whole-heartedly except he's dead and all. Whatever.
Ok this is funny to
In one extraordinary case a patient performed his own psychosurgery. Solyom reported the case of a young man with a serious obsessive-compulsive disorder whose ritual hand washing and other behaviors made it impossible for him to continue his schooling or lead a normal life. Finding that his life was no longer worthwhile, he decided to end it. He placed the muzzle of a .22-caliber rifle in his mouth and pulled the trigger. The bullet entered the base of the brain and damaged the frontal lobes. He survived, and he was amazed to find that his compulsions were gone. Fortunately, the damage did not disrupt his ability to make or execute plans; he went back to school and completed his education and now has a job. His IQ was unchanged. Ordinary surgery would have been less hazardous and messy, but it could hardly have been more successful.
[A psychiatrist] asked me if I was suicidal, and I reluctantly told him yes. I did not particularize--since there seemed no need to--did not tell him that in truth many of the artifacts of my house had become potential devices for my own destruction: the attic rafters (and an outside maple or two) a means to hang myself, the garage a place to inhale carbon monoxide, the bathtub a vessel to receive the flow from my opened arteries. The kitchen knives in their drawers had but one purpose for me. Death by heart attack seemed particularly inviting, absolving me as it would of active responsibility, and I had toyed with the idea of self-induced pneumonia--a long frigid, shirt-sleeved hike through the rainy woods. Nor had I overlooked an ostensible accident...by walking in front of a truck on the highway nearby...Such hideous fantasies, which cause well people to shudder, are to the deeply depressed mind what lascivious daydreams are to person of robust sexuality.
That is just a hilarious view on depression. I mean come on that is hilarious. Frank Sinatra would approve whole-heartedly except he's dead and all. Whatever.
Ok this is funny to
In one extraordinary case a patient performed his own psychosurgery. Solyom reported the case of a young man with a serious obsessive-compulsive disorder whose ritual hand washing and other behaviors made it impossible for him to continue his schooling or lead a normal life. Finding that his life was no longer worthwhile, he decided to end it. He placed the muzzle of a .22-caliber rifle in his mouth and pulled the trigger. The bullet entered the base of the brain and damaged the frontal lobes. He survived, and he was amazed to find that his compulsions were gone. Fortunately, the damage did not disrupt his ability to make or execute plans; he went back to school and completed his education and now has a job. His IQ was unchanged. Ordinary surgery would have been less hazardous and messy, but it could hardly have been more successful.