I have dealt with depression for close to 30 years. It’s a part of me. I don’t love it, but I have accepted it.
Today, I had an appointment to “establish care” with my new doctor. Also, my antidepressants aren’t working (my couch and I are best friends).
The appointment started out great! My doctor is amazing, which is a breath of fresh air in the military world. She took all of my concerns seriously, and after suggesting a medication switch, she asked, “are you open to the idea of therapy?”
Heck yeah I am! I’ve had some great therapists in the past, as well as a couple not-so-great. But sometimes, it helps to talk to someone who isn’t your husband, listening to your stories of woe for the 3,000th time. My doctor immediately called the head of behavioral health, so I could meet her.
My appointment continued to go fabulously. She looked at my head wound (I had my stitches taken out yesterday, and now I can look right down into my soul).
Then the head social worker from behavioral health came in and introduced herself. And…have you ever just gotten a bad feeling about someone.
She asked questions: I’ve seen a therapist off and on for the past 16 years. Honestly, I saw my first therapist/social worker/brain helper when I was 10, which really makes it more like 26 years. More off than on–I have gone years between therapists. I said, “I really only saw therapists when I was pregnant and couldn’t take antidepressants (there was nothing fun about pregnancy), or when my husband was deployed.”
This social worker then tells me what I really need is to learn how to self-help, and I can’t just rush off to find a new therapist at every new duty station. I said, “well, I did that in college–I learned how to deal with my panic attacks, and I no longer have anxiety.”
She wasn’t done. “Right. But you now need to learn how to do that with your depression. You shouldn’t have to have a therapist on speed dial.” My doctor (a woman I have literally known for 15 minutes now), jumps in and says, “I really don’t think that is what she’s doing.”
Social worker: “well if she’s seen a therapist off and on for 16 years, I would say that is what she’s doing.”
At this point I’m wondering what I did to wrong this woman. Finally, she leaves. And the second the door closes, my doctor looks at me with wide eyes and says, “I am so sorry. I have no idea what that was! That is not at all what I was expecting, and had I known that was what she was about to say, I would’ve just referred you off post.
My doctor then said, “I did not get that impression from you at all. You know what, I don’t even want you to see her. When she gets you in for your initial appointment, you tell her you would like to be seen off post. I am so sorry!”
Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, for the record, I have never had a therapist on speed dial, although after that encounter, I sure did wish I had my former therapist on speed dial, just so I could tell her about this mind blowing encounter. Even better: when I told Justin that, he said, “actually, I do have her on speed dial, if you want to call her up.” I just might, because this is the type of WTF moment that I would’ve gone to see her about in the past, just to hear that southern drawl come back and say, “I’m sorry, she said what?!”
The point of this is, I am entirely secure in my depression. I am well aware that it runs in my family (shout out to every cousin, aunt, mom, sister, who also inherited this). Shame on that woman, in the mental health profession, for bullying anyone!
So, anyone out there who has ever felt bullied by a doctor or therapist or anyone else, you go out and find yourself a more supportive healthcare professional. Because, while it might be all in my head, this chemical imbalance is not something that any amount of “self-help” will cure. I spend sunny days outside, and I exercise (ok, so I have been too depressed to exercise lately). While those activities might assist in boosting my mood, they will never fix me completely.
But would you tell a diabetic they should really work on self-help, and quit relying on insulin??
