I Have Often Asked Myself Whether, Given

No Pill Can Help Me Deal With The Problem Of Not Wanting To Take Pills; Likewise, No Amount Of Psychotherapy Alone Can Prevent My Manias And Depressions. I Need Both. It Is An Odd Thing, Owing Life To Pills, One's Own Quirks And Tenacities, And This Unique, Strange, And Ultimately Profound Relationship Called Psychotherapy

In Depression, Your Capacity To Feel Just Flattens And Disappears And What You Feel Is Pain And A Kind Of Pain That You Can't Describe To Anybody. So It's An Isolating Pain, A Completely Isolating Pain.

I Realized That It Was Not That I Didn’t Want To Go On Without Him. I Did. It Was Just That I Didn’t Know Why I Wanted To Go On

I Remember Sitting In His Office A Hundred Times During Those Grim Months And Each Time Thinking, What On Earth Can He Say That Will Make Me Feel Better Or Keep Me Alive? Well, There Never Was Anything He Could Say, That's The Funny Thing. It Was All The Stupid, Desperately Optimistic, Condescending Things He Didn't Say That Kept Me Alive; All The Compassion And Wamrth I Felt From Him That Could Not Have Been Said; All The Intelligence, Competence, And Time He Put Into It; And His Granite Belief That Mine Was A Life Worth Living.

The Ancient Dialogue Between Reason And The Senses Is Almost Always More Interestingly And Passionately Resolved In Favor Of The Senses.