Then, when I was in college, I had a new idea. Maybe, I thought, I’m depressed because I’m supposed to be depressed. I even told a therapist one time that if I was destined to live a pathetic life that I would prefer to be depressed rather than live in the illusion of happiness.

She recommended a book to me called Feeling Good by David Burns, and that is one of the books I have read in my life that changed my entire existence. Dr. Burns talked of “cognitive therapy” saying that our moods, whatever they are, are based on our thoughts. His theory was quite simple: Change your thoughts, and your moods will start to change as well.

I tried changing my thoughts, and it worked quite well. I realized that I had to keep up the battle to change thoughts because negative thinking cannot go away over night. And amazingly I found that I was getting better - without medication. I felt I had found the solution to all my problems.

But then… I had another bad episode of depression. I didn’t want to get out of bed. I just wanted to lay around, and I once again thought about suicide and what a great release this must be from a life of cruelty, suffering, and unfairness.

Once again, I sought the help of a therapist, and I told him about the book that I had read. “Happiness is everyone’s right,” he said. “You may not want to take medication, but why suffer? Why continue punishing yourself?”

So I went to see a psychiatrist, who asked me many many questions. Then he started talking, almost to himself, for about five minutes as he worked on the problem of what medication to give me. He explained that there are three valves in the brain, one for dopamine, one for Seratonin, and one for nor epinephrine. He told me that based on his analysis, he would recommend that I take a new anti-depressant called Cymbalta. It’s not for everyone, he said, but it would fit my profile well.

So I started taking the Cymbalta, and I quickly realized that I had to take it every single day or I would be left feeling dizzy and nauseated. Perhaps that’s a blessing in disguise, because I almost never forgot to take it, as I had with so many other medications in the past.

Over time, I found I was feeling better. I wrote a novel. I engaged in my work. I started a business. I learned to really enjoy life, and I learned to live through and appreciate life’s suffering and cherish its blissful moments. I learned to forgive myself and love myself. I believe my recovery came about as a result of both therapy and medication.

There are many opponents of using medication for treating Depression, but the alternative is to suffer in abject misery. And what is the point of that? You can’t accomplish anything when you’re depressed. You can’t love others or appreciate their company when you’re depressed. You can’t enjoy being alone when you’re depressed. Or reading. Or loving. Or anything.