The Assumption That Rigidly Rejecting Words And

I Had A Terrible Temper, After All, And Though It Rarely Erupted, When It Did It Frightened Me And Anyone Near Its Epicenter. It Was The Only Crack, But A Disturbing One, In The Otherwise Vacuum-sealed Casing Of My Behavior.

The Quickness And Flexibility Of A Well Mind, A Belief Or Hope That Things Will Eventually Sort Themselves Out-these Are The Resources Lost To A Person When The Brain Is Ill.

But, With Time, One Has Encountered Many Of The Monsters, And One Is Increasingly Less Terrified Of Those Still To Be Met.

Which Of My Feelings Are Real? Which Of The Me's Is Me? The Wild, Impulsive, Chaotic, Energetic, And Crazy One? Or The Shy, Withdrawn, Desperate, Suicidal, Doomed, And Tired One? Probably A Bit Of Both, Hopefully Much That Is Neither.

From A Public Health Point Of View, Still The Overwhelming Problem Is That People Are Not Treated Enough For Depression; Depression Remains Under Treated.