There is a radical hypothesis that, just 3,000 years ago, all people were schizophrenic. This statement by scientists is based on the analysis of manuscripts from different cultures. People from completely different parts of the world, without any relation to each other, behaved in exactly the same way: they heard voices and obeyed them, thinking that they were the gods or the muses that “spoke” to them. Nowadays, all kinds of mental disorders have become synonymous with disability, which does not prevent people with voices in their heads and holes in the soul from living among relatively healthy people. Probably there are examples of this type even in your environment, you just do not realize …
Surely you have seen in the street a vagabond walking through the center muttering or shouting something to himself. Most likely, you have one of the forms of schizophrenia. This disease manifests itself in any social stratum and many high-ranking officials, and even people who are dedicated to science, can suffer it. Like me.
It was manifested for the first time in the first year of the Yale Law School. I was in the library with my classmates, Rebel and Wei, preparing a joint project. At one point, I suddenly gave this speech: “The notes are the visits. They provide the evidence. Everything is in their heads. Pat said that. Have they killed someone? ” Rebel and Wei looked at me as if I had thrown a bucket of cold water … Then, I asked them if they also skipped the words of court cases, like me. Because it seemed to me that someone had obtained a copy of my court cases, and that it was necessary to explore the joints. I trusted the joints because thanks to them my body stayed together.
The girls thought that I had taken drugs. I went home and spent the whole night thinking about the orange trees, the unwritten documents and serial murders for which I would have to answer. At the same time, I realized that everything was not abnormal and that it was frightening.
Later, my life was filled with hard hospitalizations, long treatments and hundreds of malignant creatures with daggers on my hands that cut my body into pieces and forced me to swallow hot embers. But, thanks to my family, I did not end my life in a hospital bed. Today I’m a professor of psychiatry at the Law School of the University of Southern California. I have many friends and I am happily married.
I have bipolar disorder. The insidious thing about the disease is that, even being a doctor, you do not realize that something is wrong with you. At least until you have the personal experience of recognizing “the first bells”, such as an increase in talkativeness, excitement, excessive infatuation, overflowing energy and, most importantly, less need to sleep. If you do not take action on time, the maelstrom of mania (the hyperactive phase in bipolar disorder, which precedes depression) will take you beyond reason, and you may no longer be able to go for help for your life. account: rather, they will take you to receive it in an ambulance.
I, exactly, did not detect my first mania. I attributed my elevated mood to an unexpected crush on a colleague. I started writing poems. I organized a concert for doctor’s day, I found artists and I sang songs, it was my triumph. The same day, we went with the whole team to a tour of the city, and I had a great time: I ran through the streets, I met new people (the maniacs have the facility to meet people and please them), I went to a pool, to a sauna, a spa, a gym. I did not sleep all night, I killed time talking with a security guard, and in the morning I convinced everyone to make a barbecue. I had to borrow money from my colleagues to make up for all that fun, but at the time it did not seem like a problem. I was just having a great time.
When I returned, I started the reorganization of my office: I filled it with a lot of unnecessary things that had a sentimental value for me, but that did not meet the conditions of the antiepidemic health regime. It was then that my colleagues suspected that something bad was happening to me. I also had fun when I was leaving. The diagnosis, by the way, I gave it to myself, but already inside the ambulance. It was confirmed.