So after three+ years of treatment for major depressive disorder, PTSD and anxiety, three suicide attempts, a stint in the psych ward, a regimen of a mad laundry list of anti-depressant meds, CBT and anything else I can think of to remove the near constant suicidal thoughts, I quit. Can't do it anymore. It's difficult to find a shrink who'll both take on new *ahem* customers and my insurance, and the one I've been seeing says essentially I'm a hopeless case and that electroconvulsive therapy is the only possible thing that will help. Maybe, maybe not, based on what I've been reading about it. The pros are all for it; real people with real problems seem split about 50/50 between it helping and actually making things worse. I'm not willing to take that chance. So, just wanted to get this written down somewhere. Haven't set a date, though it'll be after Christmas. I only hope that my son is strong like his mommy and will be as well-adjusted as possible down the road. I'm pretty sure his life will be worse off with a cold, distant, depressed father than without one at all. I know I would have been. Salud.