Peter Pan Is Dead

MY TROUBLES seemed to begin when I settled, permanently, to live in a small, insular Southern city, after having spent most of my life in and around New York City. For over two years now, I have been suffering from cultural shock. There are many ways in which I and my neighbors differ, and it has been hard to avoid feelings of alienation and loneliness. With these I wrestled, chiding myself for self-pity. In fact, during these years I have chided myself for everything--apathy one week, overwork the next, shyness yesterday, boldness today--you name it, I blamed myself for it. Because I had no charity toward myself, tolerance toward my fellows also was in short supply. I struggled between the Scylla of intolerance and the Charybdis of self-hate, finally to be sucked helplessly into the depths of depression.