I wish I could tell you that I’m still feeling wonderful, but the suicidal ideation is back. Woody and I sat in bed crying and holding each other— we’re both scared. I don’t know how I can get through TMS when my depression is this severe. Even with a phenomenal team of doctors, therapists, and nurses, I cannot fucking get ahead of this. I feel desperate for hope that lasts longer than 24 hours.
i will grow from this 