In the mid-80's, I had a massive breakdown, involving hospitalization for severe depression. When I walked into my first meeting with my assigned psychiatrist, it was just like looking in the mirror. She was my exact physical double, right down to the thick glasses, long dirty-blonde scraggly hair and scrawniness (I was almost 30 years old and weighed 100lbs). It was extremely disconcerting. And since I was in there because I hated myself and no longer wanted to live, I couldn't even stand to look at her. We never talked about being each other's twin (it became clear over time that we were even more alike in personality and mannerisms), which was odd in itself, but then I could never really open up to her at all, which ended up being very detrimental to getting myself the help I desperately needed. It wasn't until I was eventually switched to another psychiatrist that I made any progress.

I've often wondered what became of her. Now that I like myself so much more, I might be better able to talk with her about our uncanny twin-ness. It had to have affected her as well...