When I was getting well ten years ago, I thought I was getting well mostly for myself and my family.

I was so depressed that I couldn't function.  Couldn't eat.  Couldn't sleep.  Couldn't care for my family.  I'd need something from Wal-Mart, pull out of the driveway, and then realize:  I can't remember how to get to Wal-Mart.

Clearly, something had to be done.  I needed to get well, for sure.