Introduction: A Cry for Help The rain outside fell in sheets, blurring the city lights into streaks of gold and silver. The air smelled of damp earth and fading hope as I stepped into Dr. Serena’s office for the first time. The room was warm, inviting, yet strangely intimidating. Bookshelves lined the walls, their spines worn from years of use. A faint lavender scent lingered in the air, masking the sterility I had expected. Dr. Serena sat across from me, a cup of tea in her hand, her gaze steady and unreadable. She didn’t rush. She didn’t fill the silence. She just waited, letting the weight of my presence settle into the room. Depression Therapy Dr. Serena: “Tell me, what brings you here today?” I swallowed, my throat dry. Me: “I don’t know. I just... don’t feel like myself anymore.” Her pen hovered over the notepad. Dr. Serena: “Can you describe what you mean by that?” I hesitated. How do you explain feeling nothing? How do you put into words the sensation of drowning in plain...