After much pressure by lots of people around me, I attempted to take depression treatment to the next level yesterday and the day before, by doing an "intensive outpatient" thing at a local mental hospital, where basically you are a patient but get to go home in the afternoon.
All it consisted of were group sessions involving
dialectical behavior therapy (DBT) - the latest fad in psychotherapy - interspersed with many breaks consisting of doing nothing, or an "outdoor recreation" thing that was just a small enclosure with a few benches and a basketball court. Had to surrender my shoes with laces, belt, pencils, cell phone, any other means of intellectual stimulation, etc., but they did give me a little composition book thingy on which I could write with markers or some sort of bendable non-stabby pencil thing that was always in short supply.
The fad for DBT is bad for me because it's a type of therapy which was originally designed for patients with
borderline personality disorder, which involves rapid, unpredictable, often aggressive, and difficult to control mood swings. I'm the opposite of that: a chronic depressive who sees everything as utterly meaningless, with low energy levels and motivation, except when I get some burst of inspiration to do something interesting but financially ruinous like buying and playing with thousands of dollars of chemicals and science equipment, or just a waste of time like researching how the world works (both scientifically and in terms of its political economy) in depth and writing long internet posts about this. Being taught how to deal with anger isn't particularly useful for me - I'm almost pathologically non-angry. But for some reason, rather than learning that they might want to try different types of therapy for different types of mental cases and split up groups of patients accordingly, hospital psych people still just fall for one-size-fits-all fads.
A real psychiatrist, the ones authorized to throw pills at people, did see me for about 15 minutes, in which he interpreted my trying to rattle off my extensive psych history in as little time as possible as the pressured speech of a manic patient. There was one actionable suggestion involving a switch in drugs that I might try with my normal psychiatrist, because psych drugs are like Pokemon and I haven't caught them all yet. But I'm never going back to that place or anywhere like it again, and it will probably cost me several hundred dollars even with decent student insurance; it would have cost considerably more if I'd gone there for the full 2 weeks, or if God forbid I'd been uninsured or underinsured. Good thing I'm not the type of person who just does whatever the "experts" say I should.
On the bright side, at least I didn't get possessed by a demon during a group session, like one lady did. I hope they had a good exorcist on call.