The heroes of my tales are all real people. Their names have been changed, but the stories are authentic. Some people came by themselves; some were brought to the psychiatrist, not to the writer. As far as I’m concerned, I was looking for symptoms, diagnostics, and treatments, not for stories.
They have biographies that were revised here and there, to protect anonymity. The heroes are living among us. They are not easy to recognize. Any one of them can be your next door neighbor or the grandfather who is reading the newspaper in the park. In the summer, when the old man wears short sleeves, you can see the number that was tattooed on his forearm in Auschwitz.
Those who survived the Holocaust are becoming increasingly scarce.
The agitated and crabby man who drags his wife out of the supermarket was traumatized by the war. He cannot stand the crowds and the fuss.
Classic inpatients can no longer be identified at first glance anymore. Where can you find the good old psychotics?