I tried therapy three times and, besides feeling smarter than my therapists, thought it was a waste of good money. It was more therapeutic to save the money. I have been a professor of humanities at NYU for the past 18 years. So when my breakdown crept up at age 35, it was the last thing I ever thought could happen to me. But in retrospect, it could have been predicted.
Holocaust survivors have it.
I buried myself in my work. I acted as if their deaths didn't affect me. At the same time, the person I was dating decided that it was time to leave me. Although I am fine alone, intellectually I could cope with losing friends in death but could not understand somebody just leaving. I started to grieve for all my friends at once.