The Peacock 82

 "I was diagnosed with schizo-affective disorder and schizotypal personality."

"You mentioned that downstairs," Carl says.

"It's all bogus.  I am not sick.  But they think I am.  The psychiatrists, I mean." 

"How would you explain that?"

"They like to pathologize everything."

"I would imagine that they have a very narrow view of what is normal."

"They're all atheists, or they're scientific materialists, which is essentially the same thing."

"It's like none of them ever heard of Carl Jung", Carl says.

"Or would even want to. They treat us like clinical, medical cases.  Networks of symptoms.  Absolutely no humanity in that kind of approach."

"What do you think led to the diagnosis"?

"I told them way too much.  I have always been rather a trusting soul, and this gets me into a lot of trouble."

"Me too, I would say", says Carl.

"I told the psychiatrist about the dreams, the visions--he preferred to call them hallucinations--and of course the emotional impact.  So..."

"A needle pulling thread", says Carl.

"And what a thread being pulled by what a needle!"

"Do you still take meds?"

"I was transferred to a more open-minded therapist, who weaned me off my meds, so now I'm not taking anything."

"Are you sure that's wise?"

"You mean after my meltdown at dinner.  Yes, you do have a point.  I am so sorry about what happened."

"Don't worry about it.  I think we were all caught off guard."

"Especially me. you know, I did not remember any of what happened around my mother's death in that fire or of me being pulled from the car in time."

"Do you think the medications kept you from remembering?"

"The medications are only good for three things", say I, "Controlling symptoms.  Causing side effects. And making us manageable."