emotional rescue

You know what, it's such a long story but I really just wanted to put something down. To see it written.
I went to see a kinesiologist on Tuesday, having read a bit about the therapy and its use in treating depression. Basically it harnesses the energy in your body and uses it for good instead of evil. That's the simplified version. Anyway, having it rock bottom and revisited my depression, I made the appointment. I tried really hard to stop myself thinking this woman could 'cure' me, make everything alright again. But at the time that's exactly what I thought because that's all I felt I had to hang on to.
Then there I was, crying, sobbing, wracked with despair and uncertainty and fear and sitting in this stranger's room hoping to hell she could help me. And somebody did help me. Somebody who was also in the room, but not the one I thought it would be. It was me. The will, the energy and the emotional rescue I'd been waiting for was right inside me all along. She 'balanced' my energy and did some relaxation and muscle memory work and I left feeling so much stronger, and so much braver. I know it's not the end of the road, not by a long shot, but I feel like I have the tools right here should I find myself in another ditch. I know there is happiness, strength and wisdom deep down within me, and that knowledge has come to me like a mid-summer rain storm, washing away so much self-doubt and self-loathing.