South African Psychiatry - February 2019

PERSPECTIVE
TWO VINYL CHAIRS,
PRISON, AND
A
PETAL.
Claudia Campbell and Mark Booth (a pseudonym)
CLAUDIA
Ordinarily, I am not a fan of anything covered
in vinyl. Childhood memories of feeling
my legs sticking to the synthetic plastic
polymer covering the bench chairs at our
local ice-cream shop, halted any future cravings for
frozen dairy products.
However, in more recent years some other chairs
were given a second chance when they received
new covers of bright, bright blue vinyl. These chairs
exist in a room with a greenish carpet, where ambient
temperatures are either frigid or sweltering. That said,
there is a huge picture window, which offers endless
amounts of natural light. But, the most redeeming
feature of this room is that it is where I am able to
listen to extraordinary stories of life and survival. I
am privileged to occupy that room and a blue vinyl
chair as stories previously saturated with hurt, pain,
and illness begin to be retold in healthier ways, ways
accentuated with hope rather than despair. I am
not a psychiatrist, nor a psychologist. It is not my
responsibility to attempt to ‘fix’ or ‘cure’ anyone. But,
I do listen with the hope that perhaps the process of
being heard might be helpful in some way.
FOR THE LAST WHILE, MARK HAS
OCCUPIED THE BLUE CHAIR ACROSS
FROM ME. HIS IS A STORY YOU WANT
TO LEARN ABOUT. THIS JUNCTURE IS A
GOOD ONE FOR MARK TO INTRODUCE
HIMSELF.
MARK
I am a very ordinary South African
man. I am the youngest of three
siblings. From an early age, nothing
would have appeared irregular
or abnormal about my life to the
average outsider. I had a good
upbringing by parents who both
loved me. After matric, I began to
Claudia Campbell
study for a B. Com degree. I found the
university environment difficult and concentration
was a constant struggle. I felt like a failure and so I
chose military training over my degree. However, over
the next 10 years I managed to enter the working
world, complete my accounting degree, and build
my own successful real estate business. I was at the
top of my game!
IN 2008 THE PROPERTY MARKET CRASHED,
AND I WAS CRUSHED AND ON THE BRINK
OF FINANCIAL RUIN. I COULD NOT SHAKE
THE FEELING OF THE “DARK BLACK HOLE”.
MY LIFE WAS BECOMING A SPIRALING,
TRAUMATIC DISASTER.
I just wanted to feel “normal”, but I didn’t know where
to turn. At 35 I dissolved into depression, riddled with
anxiety and panic attacks. A good friend saw what I
couldn’t. She persuaded and sponsored a visit to a
psychiatrist. He prescribed a cocktail of medication,
which included Ritalin. Although it made some
difference I still had off-the-chart stress levels. Any
suggestion of hospitalization was dismissed. After
SOUTH AFRICAN PSYCHIATRY ISSUE 18 2019 * 63