The Radish King: A First-Hand Account of Institutionalization

I was once insane, and I often muse over my experience. There are, of course, many kinds of insanity. Some mental disorders take place so gradually that even the closest companions of the victim are at a loss to remember when the trouble began. One evening, after an oppressively warm day, I sat on my porch fanning myself. 'This arm that is now in motion,' I mused, 'must one of these days be dust. I wonder how long the time will be.' Then I mused upon the evidence I had of immortality. I decided I should live forever, but then thought, 'No, this cannot be, for death follows all men alike.' I wanted to be rich, and I began to study over an imaginary list of enterprises. At last I hit upon radishes. People must have radishes; they should be in every store. I would plant fifty acres with radish seed and people all over the country would refer to me as the 'radish king.' I would form a radish syndicate, and buy up all the radishes. I hastened to the house to tell my wife that she was soon to be a radish queen. During my explanation, she acted so curiously that I was alarmed. I feared she was losing her mind. I went to the village and told a prominent citizen of my plan, but he seemed grieved and I saw he was contemplating the same enterprise. It seemed mean he should take advantage of me, and I told him so. I was seized by several men and taken to jail. My wife came to see me, but she did not try to have me rescued. I demanded a trial, but no lawyer would defend me. I was taken to an asylum. One morning, the sun rose and shone in at me through the window. A mist cleared from before my eyes. My brain began to work, and I realized that I had been insane. I called the keeper, and when he saw me, he exclaimed, 'Thank God!' and seized my hand. I was not long in putting on another suit of clothes and turning my face toward home.