The most memorable thing would be the one that gave me a marble (the kid's toy) and told me to hold it when I was sad or anxious and visualize the pretty colors in it until I felt better. It was an extremely ugly marble and I was way too depressed for it to help in the least. She was brand new at the job though and I do give her credit for creativity. I kept it in the coin holder in my car for years as a joke.

What I most disagree with is the pdoc who told me that the sexual abuse I experienced as a child was my fault. That it wouldn't have happened if I hadn't wanted it, but that it was somehow natural for children to want to have sex with a parent. It wasn't a great thing to tell an already suicidal teenager and he was so condescending when my mom asked why I was sobbing so hard I couldn't speak after the appointment. I have no idea how he even had a medical license. It was a long time ago though, I can't imagine that anyone would get away with something like that now.

What I don't tell my pdoc is the full extent of how I'm feeling when my symptoms are really bad.