She told me to write. She thinks I have a unique perspective. She thinks it will help.
Me.
The label I've been given is Major Depressive Disorder. And I'm stuck. Pills, Talk Therapy, Group Therapy, Cognitive Behavioral Therapy; nothing seems to move the needle.
No, I don't know why, where, when. Like the ghost of a familiar scent, there's something insidiously seductive about it; I've been here before & I'm happy(!?) to be back.
I am being tricked, by my own brain, into feeling safe inside myself.
