Had therapy, walked along the river with my dog for an hour and a half, crying, while trying to meditate and pray. Still crying a lot and despairing, called the crisis team. They urged me to apply for Dept of MH services, and I made the call, though humiliating. I worked for DMH in the past as an MSW. I called a new prescriber, getting nowhere with my Pdoc of 23 years. She then referred me to yet someone else, "more of an expert in treatment-resistant depression". I ate one meal, a frozen entree. I keep trying, while going through possibly the worst time yet in this life sentence that I'm serving.