I remember when I was 8, there lived an old woman down my street. She was the sweetest old lady you will ever meet, being a child who never saw her grandparents she was like the grandma I never had. I remember spending lazy summers in her garden playing with my dolls and she used to sing old folk songs to me.
As I think about her, I remember certain episodes of her losing control of herself and transforming into someone else. She would scream at windows and talk in a man-like voice like a baritone. People in my locality used to look at her with an expression of undeserved reverence, they used to say she was special and that good possessed her time to time.
Now when I look back at her, I realize she was indeed very special, but not for the reason people believed. After studying psychology extensively for two years during high school and suffering from anxiety myself, I can clearly say that she suffered from a split personality disorder.
Of course, if I were to go and try and advocate this to a group of individuals who have lived their entire life as fanatic followers of spirituality, my views will only be turned into a mockery or worse I would be labeled as a “religious offender”.