I told a member of my church, who has his own radio show, about my book. It is about being mentally ill and living well. He said many people would be interested in that subject. He wanted to talk to me about an interview when the book nears release in June of 2020. I told our assistant minster I was schizophrenic. She never suspected.
I live in a hi-rise. Many of us here are mentally ill. Our diagnosis got us admitted. No one admits they are mentally ill, no one has a job, and no one seems to do things that benefit their mental health. They talk about the affairs of the building, shoot pool, smoke cigarettes, and play with their dogs. Am I missing something? Is my treatment at the VA for my mental problems so much better? I am clinically well. I got here with the help of the mental health profession, prescription drugs, a great support network, and a lot of hobbies. An early patient of Freud called psychiatry the talking cure. There is more to life than talk. What about a fishing trip, a skiing trip, writing a book, or going to a baseball game or a concert? What about doing something, rather than flapping your jaws? Socializing is important to mental health. But all the time?