She questions the current medical literature which encourages the patient to feel that depression is a chemical imbalance and not an issue of weakness. The author admits she can't battle her depression without Prozac, but also feels that overcoming her condition is all about willpower and "pushing through it". Vincent makes this assessment after spending a whopping 10 days (or fewer) with a handful of other mentally ill people in three different facilities.
I resent the author's continued suggestions that the mentally ill are ill of their own choosing, and that they've "given up" and are "spoiled" (the theory being, it's easier to be institutionalized than to be a contributing member of society). Speaking as someone who's suffered depression for the past decade, I can assure you that it's not particularly exciting or interesting. I think the book would have been more interesting if it really had been an outsider's account of life in a mental institution, but instead, the book quickly becomes an account of Vincent's own battle with depression. Not nearly as interesting as the premise suggests, and probably the only memoir I've ever read where the author exhibits absolutely no sense of humour.
0 kommentar(er)
