#Writing #Therapy #Depression
Waiting for our name to be called has been jarring as ever. Even though we have been here more times we can count.
We jump as our name is called and look up to see our therapist, caring as always she guides us to the room and asks how we have been.
It wasn't long till we broke down in tears and said we couldn't take it any more. Something has to change.
She comes over and holds us close as we cry our eyes out. We wish that all people were as nice as her.