A dear friend recently posted something on Facebook that appeared to condemn Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT), calling it “gaslighting bullshit.” I took great umbrage at that assertion and, in fact, found it infuriating.

I’ll concede that I may have misinterpreted my friend’s intent. They mentioned hating apps that claim to use CBT. I haven’t used those apps, and perhaps what the apps present as CBT is merely hollow, meaningless affirmations. If that’s the case, I would likely agree about the uselessness—and possibly even harm—these apps pose. (This possibility is why I’m posting this in my own space rather than theirs.)

However, that’s not how I read my friend’s criticism. I interpreted it as an attack on Cognitive Behavioral Therapy in general, and such an indictment runs completely contrary to my personal experience as a beneficiary of the technique. To be blunt: Cognitive Behavioral Therapy saved my life.

Before explaining why, I need to offer two caveats. First, I can only speak to my personal experience with the technique; others may have encountered CBT in different forms and come away with different impressions. Second, I’ll be discussing my struggle with depression, including references to suicidal ideation. If this content may cause you harm, please read no further.

I’ve always struggled with depression, though it took years to recognize it as such. As a teenager, I experienced days-long “sulks,” as my parents called them, periods when, if I got out of bed at all, I would spend every available moment lying there, dark thoughts swirling through my head. Yes, I frequently contemplated self-harm, seeking to “end it all” and relieve my suffering or, as I would have said then, “relieve the world of my unbearable presence.” Only the fact that most methods seemed overly painful prevented me from following through.

As I grew older, I learned to mask my depression better, or at least I thought I did. The hard crashes continued occasionally, and the only thing that seemed to help was listening to Indigo Girls. Something about their songs spoke to my inner core of internalized homophobia and loneliness. My friends noticed my struggles, though they misattributed the causes. Coming out helped relieve some symptoms, but the depression persisted, and I still crashed periodically.

Eventually, intense employment stress triggered the worst of my depression, causing me to snap at coworkers and surround myself with a nearly palpable gloom that drove others away. This cost me my job. I was fired from a company I had helped found. Subsequent positions met similar fates as my depression fed on my employment troubles, creating a vicious cycle of worsening mental illness.

I write all this so that you have an understanding how much I was affected by depression.

Finally, I was convinced to seek help. I started taking antidepressants and meeting with a therapist, who suggested we try Cognitive Behavioral Therapy. He described it as identifying distorted thinking—moments when my internal monologue was full of inaccuracies—and finding evidence to prove those thoughts wrong.

(My subsequent reading supported this characterization. “Feeling Good: The New Mood Therapy” by David D. Burns is a foundational work in popularizing CBT. The book explores the many ways depression distorts our thinking and offers strategies to counter these distortions. Some characterize CBT as “feel-good toxic positivity,” but I believe they’re entirely wrong.)

Here are some things my depression told me in my darkest moments:

* “You fail at everything.”
* “You’re a stupid loser.”
* “No one wants to spend time with you. No one cares about you.”
* “You’ll never be loved.”

Two revelations of CBT were particularly helpful for me. First, my mind was lying to me, and it was easy to prove these statements inaccurate. Second, my mind dealt in absolutes—and as Obi-Wan Kenobi says, “only the Sith deal in absolutes.”

My therapist helped me recognize these thoughts and thought patterns, identify them, and compile a list of common ones. Then we examined each and found instances in my life—events that happened or things people said—that proved the thoughts inaccurate or, more bluntly, were lies. We completed worksheets documenting times I had succeeded and conducted honest assessments of my skills, talents, and abilities. We reviewed invitations I’d received to parties and events, and noted how people at the weekly board game night I co-hosted enjoyed my jokes and valued my observations.

All these data points proved my all-or-nothing thinking was simply wrong. Given how my mind works, having concrete evidence that a statement is false severely weakens its hold on me. Once the lies are exposed, they lose their power.

As people often say about mental illness: depression lies. CBT helped me expose those lies and counter them with fact-based proof. Is CBT a cure? LOL, No. I still experience depression and bleak periods. But I no longer tolerate the absolute, all-or-nothing, distorted thinking that once pulled me deeper into darkness. I can now recognize depression for what it is, identify distorted thinking, and stop it in its tracks. I wouldn’t have these tools without my therapist suggesting Cognitive Behavioral Therapy.

Will CBT work for everyone? I doubt it. I defer to trained therapists and psychologists who have the experience to recognize when CBT would benefit their patients.

But it worked for me, and I won’t tolerate anyone gaslighting me by calling it bullshit.