appointment with a psychiatrist – and then hoped to god that I did not forget to go.Dr. So and So introduced himself and asked what I was like as a kid.
My words meandered all over the place, though I hit what I thought was the important stuff. I could be reading about the underground railroad; half an hour later, I’d realize I had been thinking about a hangnail on my pinky toe instead of Harriet Tubman.
I did things like impulsively throwing myself over a second-floor banister, mistakenly believing I could boing-sproing off the couch cushions.
Read more on additudemag.com