On Being Crazy and a Book Review of Sorts

When I was a school-going teenager, there was a man who used to walk along the streets of the neighbourhood. He looked dishevelled at most times, and walked aimlessly day after day. People said he was *crazy. I always hoped that I'd never have to cross paths with him as I made my way back home from the bus stop after school activities. So, why was there this strangely deep fear of someone who was  rumoured to be crazy? 

When I was even younger (7 or 8, maybe), I sat with my family one night and watched this film called The Lunatics. Despite only getting by with subtitles, the film was visual enough (as kids, my parents never really shielded us from violence on TV, and back then neither did the Malaysian censorship board - if there was one back then) to scare me into believing that while they were not fully in control of their condition, they were capable of violence. It's impact was so immense that one of the final scenes keeps playing in my head as I'm typing this post out.

The sudden recollection of the past was due to this: 

About a week ago or so, my sister lent me a book that went by the name Henry's Demons. 

It is a true account of a family's journey through the son's battle with schizophrenia  mostly from the point of view of the father (although quite a lot of it is also from the mother's point of view as well, it was written by the father), from the time he was first diagnosed till today, how he went through all the different hospitals and facilities and how he seemed to have this incomprehensible desire in running away from the hospitals and the putting himself in danger by entering extremely cold bodies of water. What makes the book even better is that the son (Henry) himself contributes a few chapters as to how he perceived what he was going through and how for him, everything (including having trees and bushes speaking to him) was as real as say, having a cup of coffee.

The book subtly also lets you know that not all people diagnosed are a danger to the public and how they are more of a danger to themselves, especially in Henry's case. It evokes sympathy - how someone could be so 'normal' one day and turn into someone you hardly know the next day. How mental health care works, or how people perceive those with mental illness, that family members rarely speak about it. In whole, it was a rather splendid book, so if you happen to get your hands on this book, do give it a read. 

* Many years later while we're talking about the disappearance of the man, my sister tells me that the man once used to be a cop, and he fell down, injured his head and was never the same again. Naturally, he lost his job and his family also left him soon after. I think my heart broke a little when I heard this story. The least they could have done was get him some help, right?