The first psychiatrist I saw told me that because I have wealthy parents and university educated (I was a student then) that I am not mentally ill and shouldn't be complaining and that people in India, where he is from, had real problems then he put me on Prozac. When I stopped eating, sleeping, and other manic symptoms and still was very depressed and told him such, he said, "oh that's just anxiety, let's double your dosage."

I was 19, very sick and couldn't know any better. I was horribly ashamed of mental illness and didn't ask anyone else for help so, followed his orders straight to the darkest pits of human experience.

Looking back, I'm surprised I survived.