by Norah Vincent, 2008; Viking; $25.95; 287 pages REVIEW BY TERRI SCHLICHMEYER
"Are you crazy?"
It's a common query, one you've probably been asked an insane amount of times. Maddening, really, how often people question your sanity when you do something loony. It's enough to make you cuckoo.
But what if your lunacy was the real thing? What if you—perfectly normal you—had something buried so deep you barely knew it existed? In the new book Voluntary Madness by lesbian writer Norah Vincent, you'll read about a journalist's time in "the bin."
As she finished her first book, Self-Made Man, Vincent realized that, in masquerading as the opposite sex, she had lost a part of herself. She tumbled into depression and subsequently entered a mental ward to "do some serious recalibration."
But, she wondered, does that make her "mentally ill?"
Probing the writings of writers and doctors, Vincent became intrigued, then curious, and she decided to write a book on the subject. Over the course of a year, she checked herself into three facilities: a public hospital in a big city, a private rural hospital in an unnamed prairie town, and an alternative-treatment facility that she found on the Internet.
The public hospital, she learned, was discombobulating. Mostly ignored by staff ( except to enforce "rules" ) , Vincent was put into a room with three other women. Good nutrition was all but non-existent; autonomy, even less so. There was a near-complete lack of privacy. Patients were allowed out-of-doors briefly, occasionally. Heavy-duty medications were common. Boredom was rampant.
"No matter how bad you feel," Vincent says, "never go to the bin. In fact, never confess enough to your therapist to give her even the slightest inclination to commit you to the bin..."
Just before entering the private hospital, Vincent felt depressed again. Hoping for quality treatment with no additional meds, she checked in and found an understanding doctor who allowed clients freedom, knowing it could help with healing. Vincent also writes about the most compassionate "use" of a patient any hospital could have.
But at the alternative-treatment facility—where new-agey dance and white-board drawings were part of the program—Vincent learned some surprising, frightening things that set her on a real path to recovery.
I wasn't crazy about this book at first. In the beginning of "Voluntary Madness", author Norah Vincent used a lot of fifteen-dollar words when a couple of five-cent words would have sufficed. I like what she said, I just didn't like the way she said it.
But as soon as Vincent gets to the meat of her book, I was locked down. This book is informative, funny, desperate, sobering and downright very scary. Not only are Vincent's experiences fascinating, but her examination of the state of mental health treatment will give readers pause.
Sanity, as it turns out, is a subjective thing. And if someone with more power says you need help, your opinions don't always matter.
If you've ever felt blue; or been sad, furious and/or drunk; or ever needed a little professional help to get you through, read Voluntary Madness. You'd have to be nuts to miss it.
Want more? Look for Gracefully Insane: Life and Death Inside America's Premier Mental Hospital by Alex Beam; and Queer Blues: The Lesbian and Gay Guide to Overcoming Depression by Kimeron N. Hardin.
