Cured Until I Stopped Breathing

Summary

My mother took me to a behavioral health clinic for a psychological evaluation.

When we sat down with the intake questionnaire and I checked the box for "Frequently feel overwhelmed by sadness", her hand shot across the small wooden table, pen in hand, scratching it out with a single, sharp stroke.

"How could you possibly be sad?" she whispered, her voice tight with disbelief. "What has anyone in this family ever denied you?"

I moved to the next line and marked "Fear of social interaction". Her brows knit together in immediate disapproval.