The clock behind Dr. Selby’s head seemed to move in slow motion. Every appointment started out the same way – he’d ask how I felt, I’d tell him some variation of “fine”, and then complain about something trivial that could be solved with medication or different parents.
By the 50th minute of our sessions, we’d reach a point where he’d start reciting things he’d like to discuss for next time and I’d nod as he delivered a profound observation about the way my brain...
