I sat on the edge of the sterile, paper-lined examining table, laughing at my husband’s silly jokes, my mind racing like a team of runaway horses. My husband accuses me of never being able to sit still for five minutes without jumping up and doing something.
A brief knock at the door and the doctor walks in, shaking his head and rolling his eyes playfully. Laughing nervously, I said, “Yeah, I know. Just cut off my head and be done with it!”
He sits in the chair across the room, crosses his long legs and patiently begins his interrogation. I look at my husband for comfort, wishing we were at the beach or the Bahamas; anyplace but here.
Finally, satisfied that I had answered all his perplexing questions accurately, he has a diagnosis: Borderline Personality Disorder.
Great! Not only do I feel crazy, I am crazy!
Suddenly, it all started…
View original post 612 more words
I remember so well the ‘hiding’ the real me because of depression. When people know, many of them choose to ‘walk away’… They don’t know how to respond… I may be free of that terrible ‘pit’ that held me captive for so many years… but my tendency still seems to be to ‘hide’ some of the real ‘me’… Diane
LikeLiked by 1 person
I understand. I still feel I must hide my true feeling from some people because of lack of trust. I don’t think we’ll ever be completely free till we leave this old earth behind and enter heaven.
LikeLiked by 1 person