For most of my life I have been more or less overweight.  I figured my body was just something I used to carry my brain around.

Tentatives at presentation (clothes, makeup) were just not as serious as with my women-friends.  I mean, it was just not as important to my identity as “smart” was.

Back then — only a few years ago — I actually had a mental health worker (therapist) who allegedly had a particular interest in eating disorders ask me how I got through life without being ashamed to go places because I was fat.

I shrugged my shoulders and told her I lived in a world where it simply did not matter.  The only place it kept me from going was mixers — and as I had determined men were a waste of time and I actually believed I would never marry, what did it matter anyway? Read more on Act Like Wonder Woman And Become Wonder Woman…

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The fastest, easiest test of the memory that I know is the one where you have to remember three objects five minutes after you’ve been told what they are.

This is part of a standardized test of cognition (typically testing for dementia) known as the Mini-Mental State Examination (MMSE). Actually there has been more debate of the “what is this test and what objects should be used?” variety than anyone can possibly imagine.  It is usually not too tough to engage someone in talking about something else for five minutes, to keep them from repeating it in their head. Read more on MEMORY TESTS…

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If you think I bare my soul in this blog, then you would be surprised at how much further I can take – “to the next level” as they like to say – in my private, opt-in newsletter.

I don’t just reprint blog posts in the newsletter – or vice versa.  I jump right in to the deep end.

I haven’t produced a newsletter recently – although in some promotional things on my various web page I have called it “weekly” (that’s stretching it).  But I have a new one coming out tomorrow. Read more on What Changed When I Wasn’t Looking…

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I was in the 9th grade at 13 when I was looking at the ceremony for my Bas Mitzvah, literally “Daughter of the Covenant,” when I would chant the portion of scriptural commentary to the five books of Moses consistent with my birthday, and speak all the Rabbi would let me, and collect some gifts.

My prowess with Hebrew was well known.

I pretty much knew the whole liturgy already and sang along and drowned out the officiants and choir as much as I could.  Some older men sang pretty loud, but I generally drowned them out, too.

So there was a record attendance in February for a Friday night service when I was the “star.”  Yes, star.  Everybody wanted to be at this one, because I was already known as a “ham.” Read more on Hills and Mountains…

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I have seen them.

Men, who sit in my office and tell me they are addicts to internet pornography.

They describe symptoms that have long been regarded as markers of addiction.

Dependence — They start feeling poorly, maybe even depressed, if they don’t get their regular quota of exposure.

This is easy enough to get on the internet, so everybody who feels they want this (or “need” this) is able to get it. Read more on Internet Pornography IS Addiction…

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I love being a ”shrink-lady.”  (okay, a “psychiatrist.”)

I did not pick it out of a hat.  I tried a couple of other medical specialties.  The “doctor” part — well, there was never any doubt about that part, really.  I mean the idea of taking care of other folks came into my head pretty early on, as did the idea that I was smarter than most other kids, ahead of where I was “supposed” to be.

My family had some health problems as I persevered in schooling.  It became evident that doctors had not only status but power over other people’s lives. Read more on Your life, Your Work – What’s The Difference?…

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If I haven’t convinced everyone yet, I don’t know how.

I have written on this before.

Vaccination keeps kids alive.  Kids who could die dead as door nails from preventable diseases.

Vaccination has very few side effects. Read more on We Can Fix This Vaccination Bit…

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Freedom is healthy.

I have always believed this, and still do.  My perspective comes from many places — my upbringing, when I was bombarded since an early age by my Russian-immigrant grandmother how wonderful it is to be in the United States, where we are free, unlike the oppressed and subjugated multitudes left behind in the “Mother Country.”

Whether in philosophy or neurology, neuroscience or the applied study of behavior, having more options, more “degrees of freedom,” as well as — one would hope — the intelligence to make decisions among such options, is so basic a descriptor of humanity that it is part of any imaginable statement about the nature of human beings.

Some of the most heart -wrenching patients I have ever cared for are those who have been captured or subjugated in some way, and lost, to some extent at least, their ability to use their bodies or minds as they wish. Read more on Freedom And Mental Health…

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The first person I remember who approached me telling me clearly and articulately that uncertainty was his problem was Dr. W.

Not that he was (or ever could have been) a medical doctor.  He was an engineer who had been laid off for being somehow “supernumerary” from Boeing Aircraft in Wichita, Kansas.

Very stable, very “establishment, a former president of the synagogue (where we had met) the late Dr. Larry Weller was the kind of guy who wore a necktie around the house, just because he was more comfortable that way.  His wife was a sharp-as-a-tack social worker.  He was continually thankful for this, as his two adult children were living and working elsewhere and the two of them could keep their home and live fairly well (with the occasional flight to New York to visit relatives) on her salary. Read more on Uncertainty Is A Tough Mistress…

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I think this was said to me for the first, last, and only time at the first, last and only mixer for singles I went to in Wichita, Kansas.

I don’t remember the man’s name or face, but I do remember how he responded to my answer to his inquiry about what I did for a living.

“Psychiatrist? That sounds like a fun job.  You probably get to talk about sex all the time.”

My response was undistinguished.  “No, not really.” Read more on Psychiatrists Don’t Just Talk About Sex…

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