As Tiberius said to Caligula, “It is better to be feared than to be loved.” You history buffs out there will recall that Caligula took these sage words to heart and ruled ancient Rome with a flamboyant accent on intimidation. Was Caligula crazy? Frankly, it’s too soon to tell. But one thing is certain, in fairy tales, foreign films, comic books and ballads – crazy is way scary yes indeed. Even bad guys – (guys so bad they would tear the tag off a mattress – so thoughtless and cruel they would blabber away at the top of their lungs in a crowded Starbucks – so insensitive to the fate of our dear mother earth they would purchase and drive a Hummer!) – are frightened by the whackadoomious among us. Speaking as a card-carrying resident of Cookoopantsatopolis, I am here to tell you that all of us have been overlooking a significant strategic opportunity! Instead of feeling contrite and embarrassed about our disabilities – (or “differences” if you prefer) – let’s flaunt them! Naturally we would all prefer to be loved for who we really are, but candidly, will that be happening soon? I thought not. So, in the interim, let’s find ways to make fear of the mentally ill a wedge in the door that opens up into social acceptance.

Younger readers may be astounded to learn that physical fitness was not always admired in America, universally acknowledged as the planet’s fattest nation. Oh no! Not so long ago, smoking cigarettes was the very height of chic, pizza was considered a health food, and the ability to drink into oblivion was widely viewed as proof of character. (Extra points were awarded if you woke up in a Tijuana brothel sporting an armadillo tattoo.) Back then, there were two places where you could find exercise equipment, the YMCA and the weight rooms of prosperous academic institutions. Men who paid attention to their physiques were thought to be fabulously unintelligent, gender-ambivalent, or professional wrestlers; or all three. Women did not engage in any exercise at all other than pushing vacuum cleaners and lifting chubby infants.

Those of us who rely on the healthcare system for our peace of mind and ability to lead productive, useful lives, have plenty to say about the state of medicine today. We complain, a lot! As a group we are complainers by nature, but when it comes to the gyrations we must endure to achieve mental health we can, and do, go on for hours about what is wrong and what is worse and what really cheeses me off and those darn pharma companies and crazy shrinks and chintzy insurance companies and the polecats nesting in my basement, etc. I would never suggest that finding appropriate, affordable treatment for mental health issues is easy, certainly not. But, I would suggest that healthcare for the mentally ill has never been better, as a quick look in the rear-view mirror will show.