Kenneth R. Rosen’s parents had him kidnapped and sent to unregulated wilderness therapy camps. His next book dives deep into these murky programs.
I was suicidally depressed, until a bloody emergency reminded me what I'm capable of.
Millions of people who need treatment for eating disorders go undiagnosed. One young woman’s infuriating story should serve as a wake-up call for the medical community.
At first I thought I was having a stroke. Then I find out this bizarre sleep disorder is more common than I ever imagined—and I finally learned how to shut it out.
I was reporting in Cairo following the Arab Spring, when I suddenly became violently ill. I’m still trying to piece together what happened next.
I was a seventeen-year-old virgin when my psychiatrist glossed over the serious side effects of antidepressants. Now I wonder if I’ll ever have a normal sex life.
They admitted to religious taboos ranging from same-sex attraction to extramarital affairs. The treatment they received was alarmingly severe.
When the nurse first told me, mid-labor, that there were methamphetamines in my system, I cracked up laughing at the absurdity. When child services showed up, it stopped being funny.