"I'd sooner forget, but I remember those nights..."

Depression.
Such fun.

I have refused to take antidepressants because I know too many people who go through the cycle of months and months of trying them out to find one that works for them (three weeks before you know whether it's going to work at all, then a month reducing the dose to come off it safely when it doesn't before trying the next) and then the absolute kick in the teeth that they get to stay on the one that works for six months before some bean-counter decides they need to try a cheaper option and they're back on the rollercoaster again.
I figure that the occasional six months of relative sanity probably isn't worth having the side effects full time.

Got referred for counselling, but the counsellor and I didn't really click, so I never really confided much beyond my in-laws being spiteful to me.
Anyway I have a poor memory so I missed a few appointments and she got fed up with me.
I'm given to understand that it's possible to change counsellors, but I suspect it'll be like the drugs - the ones that work are too expensive / too much in demand, so mostly you get the ones that don't quite work as well as they should.

So now I'm boring the pants off my few remaining friends, and irritating my long-suffering husband.

Take for example the question of compliments.
My husband tried to compliment me the other day. Which is kind of him.
Instead of being appropriately grateful I felt guilty about having pushed him in to it.

The history is that he never used to compliment me much, I said I felt unhappy about the lack of appreciation and he replied that he thinks it's a waste of time and that I should accept that things are fine unless he specifically says they're not. I guess that's sensible, but I still felt bad.
Kicker is that when we eventually got to Relate some years later the counsellor there persuaded him to do the compliments thing and to remark on stuff that's good.
So now he's manufacturing positive stuff to say. To be fair it's not a huge effort for him as his work require him to put three positive things for every negative thing he puts in reports there, so he's used to doing it. But I hate that the compliments are manufactured, not real. I hate that I asked him to do it, which is pressure on him for the sake of my insecurities.
And I also hate that my asking made no difference at all and it was only when a third party, the Relate counsellor, asked him to do it, that he decided it mattered.
Trouble is that even apologising for putting him in a position where he feels he ought to do that is an invitation to more pandering to my insecurities: "No, I always felt this, it's just that I recently learned it was important to say it." or "Everybody's insecure sometimes, you don't have to feel bad about it."
Which is all very well, and demonstrates that he's a decent human being.
But still leaves me feeling like a burden. A useless lump of stupid, pointless needs. He's got to do all this extra brain work figuring out something about me that he can say something positive about, because I'm too damned needy to live without reassurance, and then when he does all I do is weep and remind him that it's not real.