From the author: Memories of student practice in a psychiatric clinic and reflections on the topic...Are you really talking? Well, now, after such a confession of yours, I believe that you are sincere and kind-hearted. If you don’t reach happiness, then always remember that you are on a good road, and try not to leave it. The main thing is to avoid lies, all lies, lies to yourself in particular. Watch your lies and look into them every hour, every minute. Avoid disgust, both to others and to yourself: what seems bad inside you is purified by the very fact that you notice it in yourself. Avoid fear too, although fear is only a consequence of any lie... F.M. Dostoevsky, “The Brothers Karamazov” During my senior years, we had practical classes in psychiatry. We were terribly theory-savvy students and hungry for “live” cases, and therefore we were sincerely glad that we would have a psychiatrist teacher. The real one, from the real (and only one in the city) psychiatric clinic. The real psychiatrist, in addition to everything else, was a man, which ensured almost 100% attendance at his classes. At that time and in that institute, in our specialty, out of a course of 45 people, there were only 5 boys. Male teachers from the entire teaching staff were: a physical education teacher, a philosopher, a rare political scientist. The new psychiatrist teacher aroused sincere interest and somehow made me tremble our entire audience, who listened to him with bated breath. What was the matter - was it the unusual appearance, the turn of the head, the indescribable slightly noticeable burr, or the abundance of examples from practice - it is not clear. The lectures did not last long, we examined the basic concepts of psychiatry, types of deviations, and then the “instruction on safety precautions” and correct behavior within the walls of the clinic began. We had a series of classes directly in the medical institution with the presence of patients. We came to the clinic, took places “in the visual hall” (I can’t say more precisely here), and then the orderlies brought the patients. The impressions were very different. Below I present my memories of my time in the clinic.1. A woman of about 35-40 years old, who made amazing crossword puzzles, clearly drawn and painted, painted mysterious pictures about aliens (in a different situation, the canvases could have been the work of a great master), sang, danced, behaved, in general, cheerful and looked happy . One “but” - she was confused about the dates of various events, did not remember her age and date of birth. She talked about meetings with famous celebrities in which she took part a hundred or two hundred years ago, how she soloed with Alla Pugacheva at a concert in the Kremlin, how Philip Kirkorov joked with her in the dressing room and similar stories. Several times during the meeting the doctor asked how old she was - each time she gave a different age. 2. Young guy, 26 years old. The diagnosis is “delirium tremens”. We sat in a circle, the woman on one side of the circle, he on the other. Several students, including myself, asked him to draw a non-existent animal (there is such a test in psychology). While drawing, he whispered to us about the conditions in the clinic, the bars on the windows, the rooms that were locked with a key, about the stalwart orderlies, about the shower/bath once a week. In a whisper, and furtively glanced at our teacher, who, in turn, periodically cast gazes in our direction. 3. A thug pumped up with tranquilizers. All I remember about him is his impressive size and the way he sat on a chair and rocked back and forth without saying a word. The eyes are cloudy, looking into nowhere. Everyone was scared. 4. A man with an incredibly sharp mind, quick speech, and a piercing gaze. He made conclusions and judgments about us faster than we could blink an eye. That time we were sitting in an “oval”, he was located directly opposite me. He spoke quickly, abruptly, quite clearly, when he suddenly stood up and unexpectedly found himself sitting on a chair next to…