“Permanent madness” is a bit of a misnomer. It’s only permanent if you don’t get cured. But curing insanity is no walk in the park. For many of us, the idea of curing our mental illness is as reasonable as promising someone with muscular dystrophy that you will cure their disability; however, that genre of mental illness is (mostly) not part of our discussion at the moment. By the time you’re that badly hung up on an issue, it’s sunk deep into your psyche. Seeking help at this point is like shutting the gate after the cows have wandered away. To get rid of a permanent insanity, you need a dedicated mind healer ~ of which few exist in the medieval world ~ to rid you of that final, fifth point in a Failed Trauma that drove you over the edge. The mind healer probably suggests you stay with them, retreating from the world ~ often a good idea. It’s also a major reason most of the small number of mind healers that exist live in peaceful monasteries or remote hermitages. You pack up your things, leave everything you know, and go to live somewhere tranquilly isolated to try and get better. (You can try unburdening to a friend as normal, but as you’ll see, it takes a lot longer once you’ve gone mad.) Every month of retreat, or every six months of regularly talking to a friend, you make a rank-0 TrFI+level 34 roll while the mind healer makes their rank-0 to rank-3 MeHH+Listening 39 roll. If both of you succeed then you can shake off your insanity and go back to Failed 4 in that Trauma—you’re not stable, but you’re okay, and you can leave the retreat and go back to merely talking it out with your friends. If either of you fails, you’re still insane. Needless to say, it’s a good idea to continue talking to your friends after this point to work the Failed Trauma down some more. Otherwise, all it takes is some spiteful dice on a single roll to knock you back into your insanity again.
"Nobody's perfect. We're all just one step up from the beasts and one step down from the angels."
— Jeannette Walls, Half Broke Horses
"I will tell you why; so shall my anticipation prevent your discovery, and your secrecy to the King and queene: moult no feather. I have of late, (but wherefore I know not) lost all my mirth, forgone all custom of exercises; and indeed, it goes so heavily with my disposition; that this goodly frame the earth, seems to me a sterile promontory; this most excellent canopy the air, look you, this brave o'er hanging firmament, this majestical roof, fretted with golden fire: why, it appeareth no other thing to me, than a foul and pestilent congregation of vapours. What a piece of work is man, How noble in reason, how infinite in faculty, In form and moving how express and admirable, In action how like an Angel, In apprehension how like a god, The beauty of the world, The paragon of animals. And yet to me, what is this quintessence of dust? Man delights not me; no, nor Woman neither; though by your smiling you seem to say so."
--William Shakespeare, Hamlet
“Man is by nature a social animal; an individual who is unsocial naturally and not accidentally is either beneath our notice or more than human. Society is something that precedes the individual. Anyone who either cannot lead the common life or is so self-sufficient as not to need to, and therefore does not partake of society, is either a beast or a god. ”
― Aristotle, Politics
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