nccotus

…a Child Psychiatrist…

who pronounced me DOA when I arrived in his office in the summer of ‘83 as my mother waited outside in the blue Chevy station wagon.

He triggered a desperate lifetime hope of help as he asked question after question and then betrayed it with a meaningless diagnosis.

years later, a psychiatrist in Texas asked question after question when I was beyond the hope of Heaven. But this time all the questions were on the money. I was shy of the diagnosis after years of banal diagnosis. His diagnosis was partial complex seizures. But Alex had had a bad day at work and my mother trounced me for it and Alex and I had to leave town. I was left hanging on. All these years.

Silver was specifically poised NOT to be able to help as I was an adult with serious sexual issues. For instance, I was getting a bad name at the Partial Program I went to after I cut my wrists. Because I started a relationship with a male patient there, which was strictly against the rules. Likely my mother stepped in and told them to let it go. She was seriously permissive in this regard. I got a horrible reputation that way. Claire got help instead of me. Similarly, at the State Hospital. I was deemed a write-off in my family. They siphoned off the help and therapy for my sister and ditched me. They are still trying to do it today. She is a 54 year old woman and needs to get her own help separate from working me. I am sure that is what they told Silver. “We can’t help Lynne, we have another daughter whom we care about.”

They didn’t know anything about me and the pressures the were subjecting me to and what they were stealing. And how I was being dragged through the mud for the sake of her ego-strength.