{"id":145557,"date":"2022-10-25T10:47:51","date_gmt":"2022-10-25T08:47:51","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.erasmusmagazine.nl\/en\/?p=145557"},"modified":"2025-12-19T11:26:28","modified_gmt":"2025-12-19T10:26:28","slug":"star","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.erasmusmagazine.nl\/en\/2022\/10\/25\/star\/","title":{"rendered":"Star"},"content":{"rendered":"

From Kortekade, which is surrounded by tall buildings and therefore drenched in shade, I turn right at the roundabout and onto Kralingseweg. There I skirt a corner of the Kralingse Bos forest, then keep cycling further east, towards the psychiatric institution where I\u2019m completing my rotation. The morning sun shines at me head-on. A dripping oak tree lets the light seep through its rustling leaves.<\/p>\n

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\n\t\n\n<\/svg>\n<\/span>\n\tImage by:<\/span>\n\n\t\t\t\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\tLevien Willemse<\/a>, \t\t\t\t\t<\/span>\n\t\t\t\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\tPauline Wiersema<\/a>\t\t\t\t\t<\/span>\n\t<\/p>\n<\/figcaption><\/figure>

For a few seconds I\u2019m completely blinded. The first thing I see when my eyes recover from the light is the pink snout of the pig on the sign at pancake house Boshut de Big.<\/p>\n

I arrive at the psychiatric institution. It\u2019s built from the uninviting kind of grey extruded brick, with those gable-roofed greenhouses crammed in between. Apparently, that used to be beautiful.<\/p>\n

I assess a patient together with the psychiatrist. It all starts with an overly penetrating look and a handshake that\u2019s a bit too firm. What brought you here? \u201cWell, I, you know, I was just on the bus on my way to see my family. My family had a party for me because I just got out of jail. Yeah, a lot has happened. I was abused by one of my aunts in the past. It all went wrong when I was twelve and I started doing drugs. I\u2026\u201d I glance sideways at the psychiatrist.<\/p>\n

She interrupts him. \u201cI understand that a lot has happened in your life. If I understand correctly, all of that has to do with the reason why you\u2019ve ended up here. My colleague and I definitely want to know more about that, but a bit later in the conversation. What we\u2019re curious about now is: what is the reason you\u2019ve been admitted this time?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\t

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\n\t\t\u2018I lie on my side in my underwear, like a Roman centurion on his chaise longue\u2019\n\t<\/blockquote>\n\n\t<\/figure>\n\t\t<\/div>\n\t<\/div>\n

A little later, she says to me: \u201cA good psychiatrist reads between the lines. This man is having a manic episode. If you know that, you can apply the right conversational techniques. Ask closed questions. Be specific. Summarise if you don\u2019t understand something. Remember: these people aren\u2019t quite themselves when you\u2019re speaking to them.\u201d<\/p>\n

In the evening before I go to sleep, I read some of Van der Heijden\u2019s novel about the death of his son Tonio. I lie on my side in my underwear, like a Roman centurion on his chaise longue. Alleluia<\/em> by Ukrainian composer Silvestrov blares from my Sonos speaker to heighten the already intense literary experience. The baritone \u2013 undoubtedly plucked from the Ukrainian countryside \u2013 fills the room with his sweet bass. Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia! <\/em><\/p>\n

I turn off the music, put down my book, and look out my window. There are characteristically few celestial bodies in the metropolitan night sky of Rotterdam. I remember that you have to look just next to the star in order to see it.<\/p>\n\t

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Details about the patient and psychiatrist in this column have been changed to protect their identities.<\/p>\n\n\t<\/div>\n\n\t

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