This is what I read in school before I switched states with my family and became religious for a living.

Shirley Ardell Mason was a psychiatric patient I identified with because she got better at the end even if my parents didn’t believe what I read.

But even they understand that Sybil gets better with the help of her psychoanalyst Cornelia B. Wilbur.

Sure, there are some graphic scenes in the book that I identified with while working through an angsty phase, but Sybil and I got better at the end of our life stories (or at least when I moved to Kentucky where she and Connie went in the past) and by no means do I identify as a patient of a psychoanalyst now that I’ve moved onto bigger and better things.

If you like to study psychology and mental disorders and treatment stories of real patients, maybe this?

I’m more of religious person now but somehow while hating my treatment faculty during 11th grade (no, really) I read this book around that time before I moved to another state like Sybil and Connie did when they were around.

They’re probably the better examples of psychology than my treatment staff trying to be my own authority figures while I actually took up religion to better define my life then psychology, personal success, and entertainment.

So really, Shirley’s story is my story because we both got better at the end even though we’re both different.