My sister’s best friend Jean is standing in our kitchen, her face strained, her movements quick and agitated. “It just gets so frustrating,” she blurts. “I just want someone to acknowledge...” Unable to finish her thought, she brings her hand sharply down on her knee, a nervous tic that I’ve witnessed from her countless times.
Jean’s plight is one familiar to me: she is suffering from any number of mental imbalances, anxieties, mania, and depression, and what she wants is a diagnosis. Unfortunately for her, her father's primary care physician is not supportive of this desire for clarity. His reason is fear based; he doesn’t want his daughter put in a box or labeled.