When you visit our website, if you give your consent, we will use cookies to allow us to collect data for aggregated statistics to improve our service and remember your choice for future visits. Cookie Policy & Privacy Policy
Dear Reader, we use the permissions associated with cookies to keep our website running smoothly and to provide you with personalized content that better meets your needs and ensure the best reading experience. At any time, you can change your permissions for the cookie settings below.
If you would like to learn more about our Cookie, you can click on Privacy Policy.
“You suffer from depression?” “And anxiety, yes.” Dustin nods. “I did hear you had a breakdown in college,” Ronan admits. “Everything just got to be too much: the pressure to be normal, my visions, my family, classes, relationships, everything. I got help, though. I got into therapy, got on medication, and things improved. I have bad days, and bad moments, but I’m a lot better. It doesn’t mean I’m unstable or unreliable.” “I never thought having a breakdown made you those things. I’m glad you got help. I’m sorry you went through all that. I’m sorry you didn’t have a family that helped,” Ronan says as he pulls into the parking lot of the motel. “Thank you. It was a really crappy time, but it got me to a better place. You aren’t worried about working with someone with mental health prob