I have a confession to make. After you hear it, I’ll understand if you never want to talk to me again.
I once regularly went to see a psychiatrist. Stop laughing. I did it at the insistence of my then-wife, who had become convinced that since we didn’t get along, I must be crazy. Yes, I’m oversimplifying that. But I did go. For a couple of years, actually. Paid him out of my own pocket. I didn’t get any less crazy, but sometimes it was kind of interesting.
But here’s my point: If I knew then that “mental health professionals” were required to be part of the gun control “solution,” do you think I ever would have darkened that guy’s door? Because I think probably not.