My heart flutters at the slightest hint of his smile. “Thank you,” I said, accepting his compliment gracefully, hardly daring to believe he actually liked what I said. I took a deep breath and continued to stare into his hardened eyes.
“The lowest point,” I began. “That’s easy. When my anxiety and depression got so bad that I lost control of my life. I was scared of everything. I couldn’t take care of myself. I lost sight of who I was. I had to enter outpatient therapy at a hospital to get back on track again and regain control of my life. And now here I am, stronger for it.” I waited nervously for his answer and next question once again…
My Type is Homicidal 