Apparent wellness, or the absence of observable neuroses, is most often an advanced capacity in the individual for complying with social norms, and is, as such, its own (well disguised) form of neurosis. Social norms are indispensable in helping us manage to get along with one another, but strict conformity to these norms does nothing to broaden the soul. A life defined by social correctness dressed up as "sanity" is as stable as the first little pig's straw house when, as they inevitably do, things fall apart. The extreme exemplar of this phenomenon is the "perfect" college student: straight A's, varsity sports, good looking in a typical fashion, socially and sexually successful, paired with an attractive boyfriend or girlfriend. But the process of achieving social perfection can so utterly alienate the late adolescent from the process of suffering and enduring everyday pains and humiliations (think bad acne, unacceptable fashion, prolonged virginity, the list of transgressions is almost endless, making the "perfect" adolescent's "accomplishment" all the more astounding and shedding light on where this is headed) that little by little chisel a human soul. This process of achieving true social, i.e. external, "perfection" hollows out the late adolescent's soul or internal life with a brutal finality, so that in the end her only means of retrieving her lost soul from its imprisonment in the social sphere is by violating the sine qua non of the social order, the suicide taboo. Suicide, here, is a tragic act of liberation.
Translated into Buddhist language, this (in)sane figure is similar to the master practitioner of Samsara, who lives a life of comfort and ease, safely sealed off from suffering and assorted discomforts. Deep in the womb of Samsara, he will be birthed into trauma when things fall apart, as they inevitably do. Even, and especially, if this birth is the moment of death.
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