Clinic Life as a Life Vision

This morning I had a surprisingly clear thought: my inpatient stay at the psychiatric hospital in Münsingen (PZM) was a turning point. Not dramatic—more like a slow ocean liner changing course. Quiet, but decisive.

Before the hospital, I often felt I wasn’t taken seriously. And I can almost see why. These days many people say they’ve “had depression,” and when you ask, they’ve never been in therapy, let alone taken medication. The truth is simple: when an illness—mental or physical—is truly serious, you go to the hospital. Full stop.

For me, PZM was an overwhelmingly positive experience. For the first time, I wasn’t the smallest fish in the pond. I felt liked—maybe even admired. That was new. And healing.

I think back to those weeks often. My small single room on the secure unit felt like a cocoon. The daily rhythm: morning shower, get ready, breakfast. Then two hours of art therapy—music in my ears, hands making something out of nothing. A high-quality, healthy lunch, plated like a hotel. Rest. Long afternoon walks with music; sometimes I couldn’t stop. The grounds and surroundings—nature, art, wonder, beauty. In the evening: dinner together. Then hanging out and talking with fellow patients. Just being. Allowed to feel good.

What healed me at PZM?

I think it was the sum of all these things:

• A beautiful, safe environment
• No everyday pressure
• No shopping, no cooking
• Healthy, whole food every day
• Daily creativity—no purpose except to exist
• Movement in nature
• Social contact without roles or masks
• Above all: feeling welcome, seen, recognized

I remember wishing I could simply live there. That the feeling would never end.

Maybe that’s exactly what I want again—not the hospital itself, but that way of living. That balance.

A clean, modern, lovely apartment—my personal comfort oasis. A household helper, because I like things spotless but I’m a miserable housekeeper. The option to eat out regularly, because cooking isn’t my thing. Walks to beautiful places, small hikes, well-kept nature. Services like hairdresser and cosmetics—because they help me feel strong and beautiful. And from that strength often comes the impulse to take action.

Maybe this is my goal:
Not “healthy” in the clinical sense, but held by a life that is good for me.
A little bit of hospital—every day—without the hospital.