Imagine what Comrade Stalin would once have said to Semyon Mikhailovich Budyonny: “You will be, dear Comrade Budyonny, a psychiatrist. There are not enough good psychiatric personnel in the country. And the cadres, Semyon Mikhailovich batono, decide everything.” And I would have to mentally whisper to the swearing uncle to put on a white coat over the sword belt with a saber (where without it), change the felt pointed helmet for a cap (ugh, I’m sorry, God!) and treat the mournful with your head. And give lectures to students. And if you asked Budyonny what the asthenic-neurotic type of accentuation of character is, he would answer…

“Arab horse, fellow students. The same nervous, delicate soul and timid. Capricious, but beautiful. In the long gallop to put the do not can — no, more Yes trot gait, and if you want to gallop short spurts. And don’t let any of the bastards fire their guns next to you, or else get the rider out of here!” Such a … squiggle.”

So long-term loads for a representative of this type of death are similar-it does not matter whether they are physical or psychoemotional. It’s like an F-16 [60] without refueling in the air: it took off, did a dirty trick in order to maintain democracy — and to the base. Standing in queues, waiting for something, the prospect of monotonous work is immediately added to the list of tortures of special sophistication and try, accordingly, to avoid.

Such people are irritable. Not hot-tempered, like hypertimus (about which later) – they say that you are all exclusive here, and I am d’Artagnan; not angry with boiling, redness and steam from the ears, like an epileptoid, but more like a balloon: cotton-and a limp piece on a thread. Moreover, the ” pop ” can be loud, sudden and insignificant in appearance prick. At the same time, they are otkhodchivy, they can even cry on the shoulder of the newly cursed, but also for a short time. Sometimes they confuse their beloved half with this: he yelled, and in the end he has to be comforted, patted on the head and say that everything is fine.

Concerned about their health. Heart, headaches, short sexual intercourse-yes, you never know what, the main thing is to live for some crap. Therefore, they are very much loved by all kinds of healers — the main thing is that the treatment is short and clear. Long-term schemes and diets lead them to a state of sub-stupor, like Winnie-the-Pooh long words.

They are drawn to friends, but quickly get tired of noisy companies. Looking for peace-and quickly climb the wall of loneliness. Recalling the best years, they are surprised to note that they passed under the banner of chronic fatigue and permanent irritability. Making plans for the future, like the Arabs of Inshallah, repeat “if God gives you health.”