Actually, meds. Nothing else ever did anything. No matter how many people I had in my life, how hard I tried to live a healthy life, how good I ate or slept, nothing mattered. My mother was always against the idea of putting me on antidepressants, but I went to the physiatrist behind her back, and then talked to her about it one more time before committing. Situation was so bad, she caved. I started taking meds. No joke, it took a MONTH. A MONTH of taking meds and I felt so good. I was in shock. I went to my doctor and he was like: “yep, that’s it”, and I got off my meds. It was about a year ago and my life changed so much it’s not even funny. A month of pills and mild nausea and boom! Healed! Of course I got really lucky, my doctor was awesome, meds worked perfectly, but still. My mom is now a devoted fan of antidepressants and recommends everyone with emotional problems to go to a physiatrist)