They don't listen. They don't even pretend to. I tell them I have trouble meeting new people because I don't drink due to a family history of alcoholism, and that contributes to the crushing loneliness I feel on a daily basis. Their solution? Start drinking! Put poison in your body so people will be willing to talk to you! I tell them my own internal monologue is so self-defeatist and venomous, but I can't openly disprove anything it tells me. It says I'm unlovable, and I can't deny that, as I've never been loved. It tells me I'm unattractive, I can't pretend to not see what I see in the mirror. The only thoughts I can muster are negative ones, and I was hoping someone who was supposed to know what they were doing would help me to create positive ones, to teach me to cut myself some slack and fucking love myself because nobody else will. Their actual solution? Pills. Every time. They don't even listen to what I have to say. It's like they hear the word "depression" and see fucking dollar signs, there's no way in hell they aren't getting a kickback of some kind. I have so much I need help with. I can't socialize like a normal person, I'm still processing the death of my father 3 years ago, but all they want to talk about is this magic pill that'll numb me to it all. I don't know what to do. I can't see the light at the end anymore.