The first "Therapist"
1988 I was at my best and my worst. I had my first nervous breakdown right out of highschool. I'd been pushing hard and fast for so long. Working several summer jobs with University scheduled for the fall. It hit. It came like a train. It was the buildup of a confused life and distraught mind. I had reached a breaking point. Mental illness was not talked about. It was obvious I was 'hormonal' or some kind of mania perhaps.... The MD sent me to 'The Little Brown Shack'. It was psychiatric emergency help put behind the old hospital. Tucked in a patch of trees I began my first therapy sessions. . I am 18. My hair is short for wash and go. Little make up. I am 116 pds and a little more than 5"7'. The tears flow even as my face remains staunch. My eyes are drawn and I feel weighted. I just want to run. To where? "Come in" he says. A therapist. He looks 90 to me. Tall and lanky. Blue eyes. Wrinkled forehead. Bright smile. Longest arms I