Ever since I worked in a mental hospital for a few years, schizophrenia has fascinated me. I now have a modest collection of first-person accounts of psychosis written by recovered patients, as well as some written by patients who have not recovered. My small library includes Daniel Paul Schreber's classic Denkwürdigkeiten eines Nervenkranken (full text in German), Thomas Hennell's The Witnesses, and many others. A recent acquisition is Barbara O'Brien's utterly fascinating Operators and Things, in which she recounts her 6-month journey around the U.S. in 1958 trying to evade the Hook Operators:
Whenever I think of the Hook Operators now, I see a picture of a man with a hook stuck in his back. The hook is attached to a rope and the rope hangs from a ceiling. At the end of the rope, unable to get his feet on solid ground, the man dangles in the air, his face distorted in agony, his arms and legs thrashing about violently.
Behind him stands the Hook Operator. Having operated his hook successfully, the Hook Operator stands by with his other instruments, the knife and the hatchet. He watches the thrashing man, speculating, considering, If necessary, he will move in and cut the victim’s throat, or with his hatchet cleave through the victim’s head.
The Hook Operator is a maker of tools and if he is an expert tool-maker, the hook alone will serve his purpose. The victim, in his thrashing to be free of the hook, will most likely cut into his back the crippling gorge the Hook Operator seeks. The Hook Operator waits and watches. What a man will do, once he is caught on the hook, is always a gamble. There is the chance, of course, that the man may squirm off the hook, in which case the Hook Operator will move in with his other weapons.
There is, too, the chance that the victim may accomplish more than the Hook Operator strives for and crack his backbone or, giving an unexpected twist to his thrashing, tear himself completely in two. Should break or schism occur, the Hook Operator as much as anyone may pause in distress, surveying a wreckage he did not seek and for which he feels no guilt. When he hooks, cuts, or cleaves, his object is not to destroy but to impede and remove. Not personal animosity but competition has impelled him to use his weapons. The man on the hook was not an enemy but an obstacle. Even had the Hook Operator cut his competitor’s throat he would have cut it sufficiently but no more; had he cleaved his skull, he would have cleaved it just enough. Of his weapons, the hook is considered the least barbaric, the one which requires the most skill and the one for which he will receive the least censure.
You can download the entire book for free here. Unlike many such accounts, O'Brien's book has a sort of happy ending: her subconscious generates an incredibly complex and ultimately successful strategy to knit her mind back together.
Now for the bleg: What are some other first-hand memoirs of psychosis in German? What I'm interested in are first-hand accounts written by people who experienced psychotic breaks and then went on to describe them in book or article form. They're pretty rare in any language, but I imagine there must be a number of them in German. Any tips will be gratefully acknowledged.