PTSD came up for the first time today in my psychiatrist's office. He wanted to know the impact of Montreal on my daily existance.

I am a gifted language student. I have the capcacity to continue my studies. I have not because doing so would remind me of being in the hospital. (I was hospitalized in Quebec and French is the official language of preference in Quebec. I can't hack dealing with seeing children because doing so would remind me of the hospital.

I see reminders of the hospital everywhere. At one point, my psychiatrist went so far as to ask me. "By isolating yourself, are you preparing yourself for dying?"

For all intents and purposes, the answer to that question is "yes" , because seeing so many of my disabled friends die at a young age, I always figured that sooner or later my turn would come. In fact, I had expected to be gone long before this.

The tone of this appointment was much different than my previous ones and he wants to help me deal with my unresolved grief and anger.

There is a thing more crippling than cerebral palsy: the prison of your own mind.