Several weeks ago, I was sitting in my therapist's office. Our visits had become more and more infrequent. No more weekly sessions, instead we met every three to four weeks. She's pregnant with twins so I was always surprised how far along she'd gotten every time I entered her office. After I sat down and we started talking, she asked, "Is this our last session or is it the next one?" We had been talking about coming to a stopping point for a while. Things had been going great for a while, I had fewer things to discuss, so I said, "This can be the last one if that's cool with you."

We started talking about what this year has been like and what I was like when I first walked in her door opposed to now. I remember so vividly how I felt a year ago. What my state of mind was. How I was. In some ways it seems light years away and in others it seems like last week. It was kind of cool to reflect on the year and see how my life is different. "It's because you were willing to do the work," she said. "Not everyone is. You were."

"Yeah," I said, sort of proud and slightly beaming. We wrapped up our discussion at the end of the hour and agreed this wasn't an end necessarily. If I needed anything to just call her. I shook her hand, thanked her, wished her well with the remainder of her pregnancy and left.

My first go of therapy was very unsuccessful. That guy was pretty ineffective and not really good at what he did. The experience left me feeling uneasy about starting again and I waited a long time before making another go at it. I lucked out finding this therapist on the first try. When we met, we were instantly a good fit and I was ready. While I saw her for most of the year, it seemed like a very short time in retrospect. But like she said, I was willing to do the work, I did, and now it was time to set out on my own. I know I'm not cured, but it was time I handled myself and my shit alone. Time to deal with what life throws at me on my own.

Life threw the first punch a week later.

When I was laid off, I was determined to remain positive about it. It's an opportunity to find something new, something that makes me happier. I still believe that. Having surgery three days after being dismissed kind of took my mind off everything hanging overhead. Well, that and the drugs. But as soon as the stints were taken out and I no longer needed the pain medication, the gravity of my unemployment started sinking in.

I was with The Company? for seven years. I didn't always like it, but it was a steady paycheck and very good benefits. That's what I wanted. The stability of knowing twice a month, a direct deposit was made to my checking account and I could immediately disperse it to my many bills. Now, I'm faced with major decisions peppered with The Unknown?. The Unknown? is no friend of mine. I don't mind The Unknown? for trivial matters, but when The Unknown? fucks with the (seemingly) important, that's when I worry. I worry I'm not going to find a job before my severance runs out. I worry about not finding a job that pays anywhere near what I was being paid before (and that wasn't much). I worry about not being able to pay my bills and getting kicked out of my debt management program. I worry about not being able to pay rent. I worry about being a failure.

I worry about the future, but now I also worry about the present.

Over the last year I watched a very dear friend go through exactly what I am going through now. It wasn't fun to watch. The disappointment and frustration. The feeling helplessness and hopelessness. Trying to comfort someone going through this is not easy and many times I felt like I was falling short or incapable of really being any comfort at all. No matter what I had to say or offer, I knew she was going to feel what she was going to feel. Just as now, I am going to feel what I am going to feel.

Before I left therapy, we talked about what if my depression comes back. I know it is possible and statistically likely. Most people who suffer from depression have recurrences. Of course at the time I had hoped it would be quite a while before I had to think about it, but now I find myself becoming hyper aware of EVERY move I make to see if the clues are there that depression looms around the corner.

I took a nap one afternoon. Am I depressed? I skipped the gym one day. Am I depressed? I avoided answering the phone. Am I depressed? I had a spoonful of peanut butter for dinner. Am I depressed? Everything received a thorough CSI examination. Looking for signs of depression was starting to depress me. It was too much. I realized I need to dial it back.

Yesterday was a particularly shitty day. EVERYTHING seems to go wrong and both suck and blow. All I could think about was how much I wanted the day to end. By the time my roommate and her boyfriend got home in the evening, I felt unraveled and ready to lose it. I grabbed my keys and drove with no destination in mind. I had to get away. After driving around in circles, I ended up at a friend's house and was invited to stay for dinner. For the next three hours, we talked, ate, laughed and were just there together. It was exactly what I needed.

During my drive home, I rolled the windows down. I felt the cool air. I said out loud, "I'm gonna be okay," because I was reminded what I need in my life: good, caring, loving people.

All the rest, including The Unknown?, is just filler.