Unfortunately, I believed that antidepressant medication alone would cure me and refused therapy. I had no desire to relive my past, and knew damn well that therapy would take me there. But my desire to avoid it, was a sure sign that I actually needed therapy. I needed to confront my past. And against my will, I began doing so, during my first hospital stay.

Since then, I've had therapy steadily--whether once-a-week or once-a-month. The issues raised are no longer as painful as they were at first and I'm more comfortable with it than ever. I have to say that without therapy, I'd probably be dead by now. It's helping as much as, if not more than, the medication.

next: My Time in the Psychiatric Hospital