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It totally throws you off when your diagnosis changes with different therepists. You kind of don't have any closure as to what you really have, because the so called professionals keep changing their mind.
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Do not stand at my grave and weep; I am not there. I do not sleep. I am a thousand winds that blow. I am the diamond glints on snow. I am the sunlight on ripened grain. I am the gentle autumn's rain. When you awaken in the morning's hush, I am the swift uplifting rush of quiet birds in circled flight. I am the soft stars that shine at night. Do not stand at my grave and cry; I am not there, I did not die. R.I.P. Bandit 7-12-08 I love you I miss you.
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