I stayed in counseling on an ongoing basis for years off and on after having initially been in a thirty day program for severe depression. During that initial time, I was in my thirties and there was all these young kids in there with me. Every day we had to take turns talking about our lives and things that lead to our depression. Within three weeks I had cured every kid in there. Each day I'd sit there crying profusely tell yet another story from my life. One girl, one day, I'll never forget her, she jumped out of her seat and she proclaimed to everyone in the room, "if she can get through all of that, I can make it in this world". As the days progressed more and more left the program. Finally it dwindled down to just me and this kid who had an eating obsession. Wasn't to much I could say to that except to feel sorry for him the way he'd look at me having been served a different lunch than himself and offer him up mine, which I'd always get told I wasn't helping him. Well, eight out of nine wasn't bad. I often think back upon what the psychologist said when I was in the program, he told me I should write a book, he said no one goes through what you've been through and comes out standing. When I go down, which is the term I use for it, I keep telling myself I can get back up again, mainly because I consider those words he spoke to be the most powerful words of inspiration, that it may take time, but you can make it back up. There was only one time when I realized it was over with for me but I had no control over what was inciting it, there was no hiding from it, no escaping it, and the thing that saved me was a complete stranger who made me laugh, to this day I still don't know who that person is, but if it hadn't been for him, I'd never lasted the last three weeks it took for someone with a heart who finally made it come to an end. Ironically his last name was Heartwell, between him, and the man with the gift of laughter, got me back up again.