When everything has gone a little grey — and stayed that way.

Depression doesn’t always look like sadness. For the women I sit with, it more often looks like flatness — a slow leaking away of color from things that used to matter. The favorite meal you can’t taste. The music that used to lift you and now just plays. The mornings that ask more of you than they should.

Some women arrive with a diagnosis. Many don’t. What they share is a version of the same private thought: this is not who I usually am, and I don’t know how long it has been going on.

Who this work is for

Women whose depression is tied to a specific event — a loss, a divorce, a move, a diagnosis, a role that ended. Women whose depression has been quietly with them for years and finally got loud enough to notice. Women in postpartum seasons, women in perimenopause, women in the years after their children left home. Teens whose flatness the adults around them are calling “a phase.”

If you’re having thoughts of hurting yourself or ending your life, please call or text 988 or call 911 — and I’d welcome the chance to talk once you’re safe. This page is for the version of depression that is quieter but still real.

What sessions look like

Sessions are 60 minutes, in English or Spanish, by secure video across Texas or in person in Laredo. Early sessions are about understanding your particular version of depression — when it began, what it’s connected to, what it’s cost you, and what it’s protected you from. Depression is often defending you against something. Naming that something is part of the work.

From there, the work usually threads together a few things. We look at the thoughts that keep the fog thick, gently, in your own voice — that’s the cognitive behavioral piece. We look at the small, boring, undramatic behaviors that actually shift mood over weeks: sleep, movement, sunlight, connection. We look at the meaning of what you’re going through, the way older sadness may be layered underneath the current one, and the parts of your story that never got room. And we make space for grief where grief has been sitting.

The pace

Depression makes everything heavier, including the idea of therapy. I know that. Sessions are unhurried. There are no worksheets to complete in order to earn the next one. Between sessions you may agree to one small experiment — not to solve everything, but to test whether one small lever moves anything. Everything is optional, and the pace is yours.

Where medication fits

I don’t prescribe. For some women, therapy alone is enough. For others, medication is a piece that makes therapy actually possible, and I’m happy to coordinate with a prescriber. Neither path is more “serious” than the other.

What I promise

Not that we’ll fix it in a set number of sessions — anyone who promises that is guessing. What I promise is that we won’t rush you, we won’t make you perform being okay, and we will keep going until color starts coming back to the room.