I dreamt I was a moody teenager again and my mother took me to a doctor for help. I was depressed and shattered to say the least. After a brief exam, the three of us sat at a table to discuss procedures to get me in a better state of mind. I got the impression my mother thought I was broken and just needed to be fixed, like I was a malfunctioning gadget. And the doctor was not much better, he was clearly there to help my mother with her problem, rather than help the emotionally wrecked child. They were talking about me and making decisions for me and never once asked me what I thought or how I felt. I tuned them out and started having a conversation with another patient in the room, and I was immediately reprimanded by my mother. Hearing her false accusations and nasty voice, I began to cry uncontrollably. The doctor then seemed to become a little panicked and rushed, he handed my mother a piece of paper from his stack. He asked me, "what was the event that happened when you were eight?" Before I could answer my mother blurted out, "when you were eight, we were baking cookies and I shoved cookie dough down your shirt!" That sounded so random and ridiculous and completely untrue that I burst out loud in uncontrollable laughter. It felt so good to laugh like that again, I couldn't remember the last time I laughed so hard that everything else fell away from my mind and I felt only pure joy. Once that thought dawned on me, a sense of falseness washed over me. That wasn't what happened, it wasn't something funny, it was something dark - very dark - and I felt the illusion shatter. I was still broken. I wanted to be broken. How dare they try to take that away from me... I woke up as my mother looked at me with disappointment.