I was born into a home of responsible parents, although not very skilled at raising children; they belonged to the postwar generation, and they just repeated the same mistakes their parents had made with them. When I became a teenager, I fell in love with a boy who, despite his young age, had already begun to develop the traits of a psychopathic personality. One summer, while we were both vacationing in the same resort, he decided to end our relationship; it was then that I decided to end my life. The abandonment of this boy rekindled my mother's lack of real affection, and the result was that one night, when my parents had gone to the movies, I swallowed eighteen aspirin tablets convinced that they would kill me. However, after swallowing all the pills, I felt very afraid and decided to seek help. Luckily, my aunt had decided to go to bed early and sent for my parents right away. As luck would have it, a well-known psychoanalyst was also staying at the same hotel, and it was he who flushed my stomach and suggested that my parents leave me alone for a while. The next day I went to the beach where I met my usual group of friends; with them I was able to share my sorrow and feel better. Although I did not know it at the time, I had resorted to one of the most effective treatments for depression: find someone who will listen to us and validate our feelings, while at the same time show us that there is always a better way.
No comments:
Post a Comment