sometimes I’m like “my therapist doesn’t really tell me anything I don’t already know” but then I remember that I used to eat scrambled eggs every single morning because I hated them but I hated them less than I hate all other breakfast food on weekdays (don’t @ me waffles are a weekend food and they Do Not start me on a productive path) and my therapist said, “why not eat a lunch food?”

and I said, “explain”

and she said, “you know you’re allowed to eat whatever food you want in the morning. you are not bound by law to the traditional american breakfast.”

my father’s insurance pays a hundred dollars an hour for a woman to give me permission to eat a pb&j at six in the morning 

We had a lot of trouble with western mental health workers who came here immediately after the genocide and we had to ask some of them to leave.

They came and their practice did not involve being outside in the sun where you begin to feel better. There was no music or drumming to get your blood flowing again. There was no sense that everyone had taken the day off so that the entire community could come together to try to lift you up and bring you back to joy. There was no acknowledgement of the depression as something invasive and external that could actually be cast out again.

Instead they would take people one at a time into these dingy little rooms and have them sit around for an hour or so and talk about bad things that had happened to them. We had to ask them to leave.

~A Rwandan talking to a western writer, Andrew Solomon, about his experience with western mental health and depression.

From The Moth podcast, ‘Notes on an Exorcism’. (via jacobwren)

This is so important.

(via cesperanza)