What is real? I don’t think it’s any secret.I search for the true.For too long, this truth I sought came from outside my body.I was trained to believe the experts.Those who study harder, know better and have the answers.They are above me — or so I believe.Blindly, I ingest their words as “what is real”. As a young mom, I sit in a doctor’s office. With trepidation, I admit I may be in a state of mild depression. The wise doctor looks at me and says, “No you don’t. I know depression and you don’t have it.” He babbles on….