I remember the knock on the door.

I don’t know what I was doing. Probably something that felt urgent. What I know is that when someone knocked on the door of my office – a shed in the back yard – I started screaming. It was another interruption from another direction, and every neuron in my body had been trained to respond to interruption with panic.

I scared my friend. I scared myself. That’s when I knew I needed a therapist.