I (as some may remember) fought against going to counselling for over a year. This was because my previous experience was that it was a waste of everyone's time. This time, I must admit, it has helped. The guy suggested that I needed a new 'project' for want of a better word—something to occupy my mind.
I have retired to my bolthole in the country, courtesy of my cousins, who have been a massive help. Here, I have done a lot of thinking, away from the daily pressures. I have decided to republish a book of mine that has been out of print for the best part of 20 years, and also to write a sequel. This will give me the structure I need. I expect to put at least one, and maybe two, full days a week into full-time work instead of moping around.
This is great progress, considering that just over a month ago, I was ready to top myself. It was either that, or ask to be sectioned or taken in as a voluntary patient. This was what persuaded me, much against my will, to go to counselling as I knew I was fast getting out of control.
It has taken well over a year to get here. Several factors have helped - the support of my cousins, my mates who have persisted with me, the counselling sessions, the drugs I am on, and not least my decision to start going to church regularly. (I have found a really supportive community there.)
Of course, the depression is still there. It never goes away and never will. And what has worked for me would not help someone in different circumstances. For example, if you have no family or no family that gives a shit about you, that is in itself an aggravating factor.
The only advice I can offer is 'don't give up'. But I also fully understand why some people want to do just that. The support you get from the NHS or what might be called statutory services is pretty fucking minimal. And the wider community has little sympathy, if any, for mental issues.