it was a wednesdaywhen i walked into my therapist's officejust like i did every weeki gave her a letterbecause once againi couldn't say what was going oni watched her read the wordsi had written way past midnightthe night beforei felt weirdly distant from myselfhoping and fearing at the same timethat she would understand what i wrotei will forever remember the look in her eyeswhen she looked up and said the wordsthat changed the course of my lifewhen she said"i cannot let you go home"i wish i could say - my story with depressionraw, emotional, and dark, but nevertheless hopeful