I have a truly mad scheme of my own. I’m more moved by the sufferings of the rest of you than any memories of my own. These make me truly angry, in a righteous way. Here is my idea. I’m going back into the belly of the beast. I will yield myself fully to the power of the psychiatrist and social workers. I will gratefully accept the pills they hand me–grateful for their good intentions. Because of my obedient, submissive behavior they won’t be too careful when I don’t actually take them. I will be kind, take all reasonable suggestions from the therapist, work hard to clean my subsidized apartment, keep good hygiene, do volunteer work in the community as they often advise….This is not brown nosing. I will only do what I can in all sincerity do or say. I’ll be meek as a lamb. If this plan works my psychiatrist will himself remove my Bipolar diagnosis with no real coercion from me. He will be completely baffled. During his period of cognitive dissonance I will plant an idea in his head. If all goes well, this idea will snowball into a giant snowball then freeze into an icy boulder that will strike a death blow to Psychiatry as we know it. We will fight wisdom with foolishness and strength with weakness. Madness will triumph over sanity and poetry over science.