I’ve met a lot of crazy people. Good people.
Like I always say: everyone should be institutionalize at least once in their life. Of course, it comes at great cost to your social and family life, wallet, and possibly even mental stability. But it’s totally worth it. It exposes you to the fragility of this phenomenon we call society.
I often think back on the fellow lunatics I encountered in these halls. One guy, I only knew for three days. We laughed. We cried. We bonded over our love of drumming. Then he was shipped away to some other institution. I never heard from him again. That was one of the best friendships I’ve ever had. Another guy…quiet, distant. Had a Ph.D in psychology, yet was in there with the rest of us crazies. Smartest man I’ve ever met. In rehab, I made countless connections with interesting, talented, and intelligent people. Have no idea what happened to them all.
After spending weeks or months together, we’re suddenly thrust back into society and become reacclimated to sane life.
Except for a few days, particularly the days where I had to survive a hurricane, I embraced my time in these halls. People struggle. They want others to understand that they are struggling. And that understanding becomes harder to find out on the streets. Even family and friends fail to muster up a shred of sympathy. It’s a tough world. It doesn’t favor the weak. Not even moments of weakness. Yet it’s those fleeting moments of compassion that can make all the difference in the world. Sometimes those moments can only be found in the strangest of places.
Sure, those were some dark days. The darkest, in fact. But the light was never more clear.