‘For a second, I don’t know who I’m’: Ruby Wax on her keep in a psychological well being clinic | Despair

I don’t reply my telephone as a result of I wouldn’t know who I’m, not to mention who they’re. Nothing is working besides my eyes, which dart across the room. I discover they designed it to ensure there’s nothing you would grasp your self from. There are not any taps within the sink, so water squirts from the wall. How do you grasp your self from a faucet? However I’m not eager about killing myself. I simply want my life would cease. It hurts a lot.

There’s a continuing stream of nurses coming in to see me. Some take blood, some hand me little cups stuffed with multicoloured capsules, some come to examine I’m nonetheless alive, some to convey me meals which tastes like Styrofoam.

My too-short orange curtains are completely closed as a result of the daylight burns my eyes as if I’m a vampire. If I peek out of the window, I see a fundamental road with regular life happening. Everybody outdoors appears to know the place they’re going, whether or not it’s appointments, jobs or lunches with buddies. It appears unimaginable that I as soon as knew the place I used to be going too. They’re so fortunate: they nonetheless imagine they reside in some sort of actuality, whereas I’m not too certain there’s one. I can’t inform if one thing is taking a couple of minutes or hours, my thoughts is white noise.

Right this moment I’ve to do a company gig the place I speak to a enterprise over Zoom about breaking the stigma round melancholy. This gig was booked two months earlier and I didn’t need to cancel, despite the fact that Ed [Bye, her husband] tells me it’s insane to do a chat to 700 folks on-line once I’m insane. Do I take heed to him? By no means. Earlier than it begins, I attempt to put make-up on however my hand is shaking an excessive amount of. After I examine, I see there’s mascara on my decrease lip.

I attempt to modify the digital camera so nobody can inform I’m in a psychological clinic, however a big hospital mattress could be a giveaway. Anyone on-line introduces me, and for a second I don’t know who I’m. Then I speak for an hour about stigma and why we should always break it, whereas leaving out the elephant within the room. That’s me, who has melancholy, and isn’t mentioning it.

At one level in the course of the Q&A somebody asks: “How are you aware when somebody has melancholy?” I ought to have shoved my face within the digital camera and mentioned: “It seems to be like this,” however I didn’t.