“I sat with him in his office and watched an old recording of a trauma lecturer at a national conference in Houston. The woman described my own case, referring to me as John Doe, a thirty-six-year-old man who failed in his administrative duties in Cambridge, Massachusetts five years ago. The trauma MD said I’d become obsessed with school shootings, which led to a persistent fear of not being able to properly respond in a crisis. It morphed into a psychosis, of sorts, manifesting as something simple, silly almost—an inability to find my shoes.”

“I did in fact forget my Birkenstocks on that day,” Stan said. “Which was a joke in itself, I mean, believe me, I’m not a fan of that hippy-trippy brand, but my great aunt bought a pair for me as a joke once. Ended up being the most comfortable sandals I’ve ever worn in my life. Anyway, I laughed it off, at first, only mildly embarrassed. But then I drove home to get my dress shoes, and twenty minutes later I returned in bare feet. It went on like that all day, back and forth. After lunch, a school nurse found me on the grass out front, sobbing, picking at my toes, watching replays of school shootings on my iPad.”

“How odd,” I said. 

“It’s difficult to examine one’s life, especially if it centers on a nervous collapse in front of an ever-observant world,” Stan said. “I was an up and coming Prep School Principal in Cambridge at Bender Institute for four years, and I was featured on NBC’s Today Show for my groundbreaking work with students on the spectrum. NBC’s Hoda Kotb even embraced me after the emotional segment, but then my life got rough and choppy and I capsized, and before I knew it I was going over the falls.”

“Go on,” I said to Stan.