Haven't I been here before?

Yesterday, my son Alex checked himself in to the Portsmouth Hospital Behavioral Rehabilitation Center again. It would be so nice if there was an actual cure for Depression instead of a long, chancy course of trying to find the right drugs and therapy to stabilize the sufferer. He tried to change his mind at one point, but the psychiatrist had already started talking to him and it came down to 'check yourself in here or we will have you checked in to Concord State Hospital'. It really was that bad yesterday. Hard to convince the doctor you'll be fine with cuts on your wrists - even if they're barely scratches.

At least this time I'm not suffering from vertigo and my washing machine isn't spraying water everywhere. But somehow, the hose feels a lot emptier than usual with him there. I wasn't home when he made his last attempt. This time I was. And it's scary. So scary.