Try suggestion for fears and impulses (see Chapter XVIII), for it is useless to try to "reason them out", though it is useful for a brief period each day to try deliberately to turn the mind away from the obsession, by singing or whistling, gradually prolonging the attempts. Rest, to prevent the manufacture of more waste products, the elimination of those present, and the generation of nerve-strength from nourishing food are the things that cure. Chapters XIX and XX deal with the drug treatment. Do not Worry. Whatever your trouble is, it is useless to "Look before and after, and sigh for what is not" for the future cannot be rushed nor the past remedied. All patients reply promptly that they "can't help" worrying, when in truth they do not try. Work never hurt anyone, but harassing preoccupation with problems which no amount of thought will solve drives many thousands to early graves. Anger exhausts itself in a few minutes, fatigue in a few hours, and real overwork with a week's rest, but worry grows ever worse. Ponder Meredith's lines: "I _will_ endure; I will not strive to peep Behind the barrier of the days to come." "Look on the bright side!" said an optimist to a melancholy friend. "But there is no bright side." "Then polish up the dull one!" was the sound advice tendered. _Learn to forget_! One cannot open a periodical without being exhorted to train one's memory for a variety of reasons. The neuropath needs a system of forgetfulness. Lethe is often a greater friend than Mnemosyne. To brood on disappointments, failures and griefs only wastes energy, sours temper, and upsets the general health. Resolve _beforehand_ that when unhappy ideas arise you will _not_ dwell on them, but turn your thoughts to pleasant trifles; take up a humorous book, or take a turn in the fresh air, and you will soon acquire the habit of laughing instead of whining at Fate. To sum up: Go slow! Your neurons have been exhausted in your foolish attempt to "live this day as if thy last" in a wrong sense; feverish activity and unnecessary work must be abandoned to enable the nerves to recuperate. When the doctor says "rest", he means "_rest_", not change your bustle from work to what you are pleased to regard as play. So much is _absolute rest_ recognized as the foundation of treatment, that severe cases undergo the "Weir-Mitchell Treatment". The patient is _utterly secluded_; letters, reading, talking, smoking and visits from friends are forbidden. He is put to bed, not allowed even to sit up, sees no one save nurse and doctor, is massaged, treated electrically, grossly overfed, fattened up, and freed from every care.