October 12, 2003

When Gandhi Met Prozac

I was reading the newspaper on Sunday, and it was full of the new and interesting theories they have on helping the mentally ill here in Sweden. This, since the man who allegedly killed Anna Lindh was a former in-patient at a psych hospital, and her death occurred on the same day as a man with schizophrenia entered a day care and stabbed a little girl to death. So they want to try to curb mental health problems here in Sweden.

They are planning to up the shock therapy treatments.

I kid you not.

So I started thinking about mental health issues. This, since I had a nervous breakdown in January and seem to come with some baggage of my own. It makes me a bit nervous that a witch-hunt is on for those who are mentally ill. Soon, we will have to wear a big, swirling, multi-colored “N” on our chests, a la “Scarlett Letter” (“N” for “nuts”, of course). People will be able to identify us and give us a wide berth on the sidewalks. People can throw their rotted vegetables at us.

But the up-side is maybe we will get better parking spaces.

Anyway I started thinking about how, these days, we are quick to label anyone as having mental health issues and slinging a bottle of Prozac their way. It seems like either we are quicker to diagnose and cure mental illness, or we just attributed mental illness to other possibilities in the past.

For instance, if Gandhi were alive today, wouldn’t the mental health professionals have a field day with the very reverent leader? Allow me to illustrate:

Bob (the mental health professional, replete with a clipboard, a comb-over, and
slinging a bottle of Prozac at Gandhi): So, Gandhi. Can I call you Mahatma? Or Matty?

Gandhi: Please call me Gandhi, Bob.

Bob (writing on clipboard): OK…belligerent. Check. So tell me, Gandhi. Why do you go about fasting? What is it about yourself that you hate so much that you explore anorexia?

Gandhi (adjusting his robe around him): Bob, I fast for my people and my religion. I fast to promote peace amongst my people.

Bob (writing on clipboard): God complex…Check. And what people are these, Gandhi? Can you see these people? Are they in the room with us now?

Gandhi: No, Bob. I fasted for my people, the children of India.

Bob: So you view all Indians as children, G? That’s a very interesting insight into your psyche. Now, tell me about your childhood.

Actually, I think Gandhi was very, very cool. But he definitely would have been locked up. And he’s not the only one. Thomas Jefferson would have had some troubles, too.

Bob (slinging a bottle of Prozac at Thomas): So, Thomas. Can I call you Tommy? Or Tom?

Thomas: I prefer Thomas, please, Bob.

Bob (writing on clipboard): OK…belligerent. Check. So tell me, Thomas. Tried any of that “wacky-tobaccky” that is so prevalent during this time period?

Thomas: I find caving in to peer pressure to be not a responsible activity. I prefer to lead my own life-I will not smoke something just because Ben Franklin tells me “it’s cool”.

Bob (writing on clipboard): Right…isolationist. Check. Ok, tell me about your conflicts in your life.

Thomas: As you know, I have had many conflicts and great hardship with Aaron Burr.

Bob: Right. I loved him in Perry Mason.

Thomas: No, Bob, that’s Raymond Burr.

Bob: Oh! Right, sorry. Think they’re related?

Thomas: God, I hope not.

Bob: I understand that you have a mistress, as well. One of your slaves, in fact, a woman named Sally.

Thomas: Indeed. She is a lovely, lovely woman. Much tastier than Martha, in fact.

Bob (writing on clipboard): Commitment issues…check. You want tasty, Thomas? I hear Helen is a real catch.

Thomas: I have heard that too, but she won’t go for anyone that has slaves. Snobby bitch.

Bob: Now, you know, later in life your elitist descendants will disclaim any and all relations descended from yours and Sally’s union, despite DNA tests proving their relation.

Thomas: You must be mistaken. That sounds like the kind of supercilious behavior that could only be attributal to Alexander Hamilton.

Bob (writing on clipboard): Superiority and paranoia complexes…Check. Sorry, man. It’s in your family too.

Thomas: Damn them for ignoring the children of my children!

Bob: Interesting that you would bring up children, Thomas. Tell me about your childhood.

And it’s not just leaders from the past. Modern guys would be screwed, too. Like our boy, Tony Blair.

Bob (slinging a bottle of prozac at Tony): So, Tony. Can I call you Tony?

Tony: I prefer Da’ Man, please, Bob.

Bob (writing on clipboard): OK…narcissistic. Check. So tell me, Da’ Man. You have been rocked by political scandal, and even lost your top dog, Alastair Campbell.

Tony: It is all a lie. I never did anything wrong. Ever.

Bob (writing on clipboard): Delusional and avoidant personality...Check. OK, they say you have spent a lot of time in Edinburgh, and in fact were born in Scotland. Does that mean you have had intimate relations with sheep?

Tony: You’re thinking of the Welsh, Bob.

Bob: Answer my question, Da’ Man.

Tony: It can get lonely on the moors, Dude. That’s all I can say.

Bob (writing on clipbaord): Sheep shagger…check. They say that you are the first prime minister to have had a child in office in 150 years.

Tony: Well, I had to get it on with someone while waiting for Helen, the woman of my dreams.

Bob: Yes, well, Da’ Man, Helen is the woman of all of our dreams. You know that. Now tell me about your childhood.

Tony: No wait. Seriously, Helen will really go for me. I know she wants me. It’s my ears. They do it for her.

Bob (yelling over his shoulder): Orderlies! We have an acute case here!

See? Anyone and everyone can be mentally ill.

Let me know when you will be needing your copy of the “N” patch.

-H.

PS-Simon tries to explain cricket to the non-cricket people, aka Americans. Little Helen's brain nearly blew up, but she thinks she understands it now. But let's not test her on it, yes?

Posted by Everydaystranger at October 12, 2003 05:53 PM | TrackBack
Comments

Gotta weigh in on this one. I'm a big proponent of therapy - after five years, I should be - but sometimes people are so damaged that without the meds, they can't get clear enough to put in the work that counseling requires. My doc took me off meds for two weeks last month, and I could instantly feel the difference.

My point is, no, the meds are no panacea. And yes, many people use them incorrectly as a sole solution. But don't discount them completely; they still serve a purpose.

And that's my rant...

Posted by: kaetchen at October 13, 2003 06:47 PM

Hi H,

You should be glad. Simon's guide took it very easy on explaining Cricket (and what a good job he did too!).

On the other topic, I'm in the drugs=bad camp too. I won't even take headache pills unless I absolutely have too.

Posted by: Del at October 13, 2003 06:08 PM

H

Good article really funny I enjoyed it.
I agree with Pylorns when he said that drugs are used to much and that doctors depend on them to much to fix mental health issues. On the other hand having a cousin who is schizophrenic I can see the importance of these drugs in helping those who have mental health issues.

So drugs are good if prescribed in moderation and only when they are realing going to do good.

Posted by: Agamemnon at October 13, 2003 06:00 PM

In point of fact, Ghandi *was* locked up. A lot.

And with respect to Da' Man, may I submit my favorite Scots joke:

Q. Why do Scotsmen wear kilts?
A. Sheep can hear a zipper a long way off.

Posted by: David at October 13, 2003 03:43 PM

Perry Mason was the bomb. Anyway, I hate the use of mind numbing drugs. The thought of the wonderpill prozac being prescribed as a cureall for a little fit of depression that everyone has is a cop out. When I finnally do my doctorate, my argument will be use of drugs vs. theropy. Yes, drugs are needed sometimes to balance the chemicals out, but most of the time, the subject put themselves in a position for them to become unbalanced in the first place, so its a matter of frame of mind. There are really 2 different schools of thought on this, and I am on the school of drugs=bad.

Posted by: pylorns at October 13, 2003 03:42 PM

Can we still be friends even if I'm a slave to fashion?

Posted by: Ted at October 13, 2003 02:27 PM

I was going to comment properly this time, I swearit.

..But.. then I realised that the general public is stupid, and voting off Paulin from Australian Idol.

Obviously, this led to me being blinded and temporarily stupified by rage, and so on.

Damn it, maybe next time we'll get lucky and a real comment will formulate.

Posted by: Jamie at October 13, 2003 12:27 PM

Oh I've never understood the rules of test cricket despite being Indian and all that. I still cant recognise players when they are playing.

Posted by: Melodrama at October 13, 2003 10:58 AM

If I had realised the way Sweden is treating the mentally ill, I would have used much smaller words in the cricket explanation. I don't want to be responsible if you fail your sanity test (especially if they ask cricket questions).

I thought shock treatment went out in the 70s with flares and mullets.

Posted by: Simon at October 13, 2003 08:32 AM
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