By: Schatzie Brunner, Founder, New Way Now
It was the spring of 1975. I had been living in New York City for six years as a PR executive. I was at a cocktail party at a friend’s Fifth Avenue penthouse, enjoying a conversation with the publisher of The Wall Street Journal, trying to be as knowledgeable and erudite as he seemed to be.
Then in mid-sentence (I have no idea what I was talking about), I began to cry, which turned to sobs I could not contain.
My date, Bob, quickly escorted me to a nearby bedroom to try and help me relax and catch my breath. But I kept crying. In fact, I could not stop crying. Bob made our excuses, and we got into a cab headed for my apartment. I distinctly remember Bob asking me, “Are you having a nervous breakdown?” I couldn’t answer him at the time, but that was precisely what was happening. I continued to cry for the next five days and experienced the relentless physical pain of sleeplessness. It was torture.