Seeing a shrink has put a very bad taste in my mouth. I used to see this woman, Dr. L, nine years ago. Every time I've told her about an issue that I was dealing with, she's laugh in my face and belittle me. She also told me that I could do things, within my ability. She put her hand, very close to the ground, to demonstrate to me, how little ability she thonght I had. The last time I was dealing with the b***h, about a year later, she kept on asking me why I wanted to go to London and what was so magical about that city. I've told her that I was in my twenties, and nothing is magical to someone, over the age of ten, unless they're Mentally Challenged. That bag also told me that I wanted to blend in, with people my age. I was 24 at the time, and I will never forget that. I don't want to blend in, with anybody. I want to express myself, in a way that makes sense to me, no matter what phase I'm going through. (My current period, is my Red Period, by the way). I've stopped seeing that monster, when I was 26. She asked me what I've thought about not going to the Mental Health Centre, anymore, and I've told her that I liked the idea. So, here I am, six years later, mourning the demise of the Routemaster on my own, because I refuse to go back into my local Mental Health system, because the only shrink that I've had didn't take me seriously, and I have a stubborn goal, to make it through, until January 1st, 2007 without talking to a counslor of any type.