Did you ever stop to think that maybe mental illness is the way to go? I mean, you want to avoid the straitjacket, but other than that, it seems like a pretty good deal. You are totally free to lick the wallpaper or have conversations with lawn gnomes. Nobody expects anything from somebody who goes around trying to bite their own face all day. Why it’s called a “nervous” breakdown when it must be the most blissfully liberating experience one can have is beyond me. In fact, if EVERYTHING was beyond me, then ANY achievement would exceed expectations. You’re an instant overachiever.
Living in a rubber room adds a little bounce to your step.
Has there ever been a psychiatrist who says, “Hey, your psychosis is working for you. I say go with it”? If it makes you happy to go fishing in your living room, I don’t see the problem. I think the customers at Kentucky Fried Chicken would be thrilled that you chose their restaurant for your Chicken Safari. (You’ll have to remember to not use live ammo next time though.)
Grocery shopping is much more fun when everybody is staring at you because you have a nylon stocking over your face. It makes ’em a little uneasy, but life on the edge has a much better view.
Do not take Prozac or any other drug that will put an end to your delicious delusions. Have you ever met a delusional person who wasn’t interesting? People who spontaneously start jogging backwards are people you won’t soon forget. That guy who stands on his head in the elevator has probably had a pretty interesting life. Sign your checks in crayon! People will never be disappointed in somebody who signs their checks in crayon.
If your boss says to you, “I want that report on my desk by Friday,” tell him Friday has been canceled this week. Sure you’ll lose your job, but the funny farm is always looking for more livestock. Three slops and a flop free of charge. If you have kids, teach them to be crazy, too. It’s much easier to teach insanity than long division. Send the kid to school with a unique excuse for why they don’t have their homework. “The armadillo ate my homework — again.” Find the humor or you’ll grow a tumor.
The above is an anemic attempt at humor and not meant to be taken literally, especially with regard to shotguns and discouraging people from taking their medications. Also, no armadillos were harmed in the making of this weblog.