Accommodating students with mood lability depression and bipolar disorder
The moment I received my acceptance letter from Yale University was one of the happiest of my life.I stood at the bottom of my driveway, where two tin mailboxes nestled against one another, and found a large envelope waiting inside.During my first semester at Yale, my mother swelled and grew monstrous in my mind; she loomed as someone whose emotional lability had imprinted me with what I frankly called an inability to deal with day-to-day life.Much of the time, I told the doctor, I felt too sensitive to cope. I liked my doctor well enough, but I didn’t seem to be improving, and the skittish feeling beneath my skin warned of trouble.Large envelopes from publications were a bad sign; they almost always bore my own handwriting, and usually held a rejected manuscript and a perfunctory note.But a big envelope from a university—an envelope with instructions, with welcome, with a full-color look-book—was news. I was not the type of girl to shriek, but I was seventeen, and I had gotten into Yale.
Art, Science, Religion, and Music are depicted as angels across its panes.
I was to be in Jonathan Edwards College, Class of 2005.
I was an overachieving child, the daughter of twentysomething Taiwanese immigrants who came to Michigan and then California with their baby girl. They applied for food stamps; they told one another that someday they’d be rich enough to eat at Pizza Hut any time they wanted.
I chose to go east for college because I wanted to get away from the chaos—the accusatory fights, the sobbing—that occurred inside our home too often to take note of. These generous donations, the sale of which helped to fund the construction of Yale College in New Haven, were vigorously encouraged by Puritan minister Cotton Mather, who also vigorously encouraged the Salem witch trials.
I dated someone briefly at the end of my senior year of high school who broke up with me because I was undiagnosed and frightening. In troubled Salem, babbling and odd movements could signify witchcraft.