HAIL TO THE T(hief)

Hello, my fellows. I need to report something very strange that happened to me a week ago. Last Wednesday I went to see a therapist, a psychiatrist, to see what he had to say to me about a combination of therapy and medicine to combat depression. I was willing to try something a bit different in terms of counseling. You people need to know that that I have NOT been suicidal in four years, and all I wanted was a bit more control over one reaction that I now have a feeling could well be connected to, say, hormones. But I’m not the doctor, right?

So I’m in his office and he’s not asking me relevant questions, neither about my physical condition, nor about other medications, cigarettes, alcohol (which I haven’t used in 14 years), or simply what’s going on in my life right now. So he’s masturbating in his mind about freakin’ Lacan – what kind of so-called psychiatrist goes on to name-drop Lacan during an interview with a depressed person?! To me, that’s offensive and shows complete absence of mind and disrespect. He goes on and on and will not know about the abortion, for instance, because there is no space for me to introduce it into the “conversation”.

Anyways, he’s sort of out of time, you know, and time is money, is it not? NOT!!! So he wants to rush me out of there, looking at his wristwatch impatiently… and still not asking the basic questions to determine what my mental condition is; and he’s gonna kick me out of there any minute, now. So he leaves the room and comes back with a bag full of generic pills of all kinds. He hands me six packs of something called CYTALOPRAM, like, out of the blue. Each pack contains 14 pills. He tells me to pop one and that I will pop one every morning until Monday, and then I’ll call him.

Why do we think that somebody who has a degree on head trip knows something about head trips better than us? I’m more convinced than ever that this is bull. Of course, there are doctors and doctors, but all in all, they think they know more than they actually bother to research, that’s what I think.

So I pop one pill and go have my armpit waxed (see, my case is a light one and I had been perfectly happy with a mild pill that regulates my anxiety attacks). When I’m walking back home, I’m too light headed and sort of twist my ankle. I find it strange, but now I’m losing control of my mind, so I just focus on paying attention to the traffic and all, so that I’ll get home in safety. I manage to do that, but, by then, I’m feeling as sick and poor little Alex in the movie/book “A Clockwork Orange”. And that’s exactly what I’m feeling inside. I feel like I’m being experimented on. My throat is “closing”. I cannot think or see straight. I have diarrhea. My jaws are locked, mouth is dry and I’m starting to feel like jumping out of the window, because then the physical discomfort and total mental confusion will go away.
Detail: Never had I regarded jumping out of a window as a possibility before. This is definitely not an effective method, in my humble opinion.

Remember, my fellows, that I haven’t been suicidal in years. So I reach for the instructions in the pill case and, as I read, I realize that I’m suffering from each and every one of the side effects and wrong reactions – you will excuse me, but I’m Brazilian and English is not my mother language. That son of a gun! He never bothered to check how clean my body was, actually. I mean, among other reasons, I reckon the medicine poisoned me so violently because I’ve been going through a “cleaning” phase, you know. And because it was too strong for my case.

So I spend the next 48 hours in this poisoned state, thinking that I’m going to die (which I had not been planning). I couldn’t sleep the first night, either, and in my mind I was writing this letter to all of you people out there over and over – but I couldn’t move.

The reason why I’m sharing this ludicrous and painful experience is because you must trust your own judgment about what kind of therapist you are seeing, you guys. Never forget that therapy itself shouldn’t be left aside – maybe I’m saying it to myself. I’m aware that each case is different, and all, but there’s got to be solutions other than poisoning ourselves with crap that makes us feel like dying. I want to live. I don’t want to hurt my family or friends. Or myself, for that matter.

It still took me a few days to get back to my feet again, both physically and mentally. In terms of trauma, I feel like I’m still recovering today, a week later. I’m a nobody and I have no intention to be an influence on anyone’s decision – actually, quite the opposite. But I feel that it is my duty to share this with you, since I’ve joined this group very aware of what the word group means.

Please, keep your minds alert. Please, keep your hearts under control – your control, ok?
I wish each and every one of you the best luck in this world. I wish each and every one of you a lot of pure love and joy that we should search for and find in our hearts. And that we are all going to find our ways to drug-free equilibrium.

Peace
Love
From Saudade

Hello, Saudade

Sounds like you are going through alot right now. Sorry to hear that you had such a negative experience with the Pshychiatrist and the medication that was prescribed.

As you say you are Brazillian, are you from Brazil? I only know of my experiences in the USA. I have found Pdocs who I feel are not what I feel that I need. Is it possible to go to a Psychiatrist who you would feel more comfortable talking to about things that are important to you? If you felt rushed by this Pdoc perahaps another would have more time for available for your needs and you would feel as if something were worked out to benifit you and what your needs are and get help from someone new.

I wish you the best in getting the type of care you as a person who IS someone and a good person, who deserves your needs be met as an individual. Best of luck to you in finding a professional you feel comfortable with and hope you begin to feel better soon- Take care and Best wishes to you -Chris

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~KRIS~

If you think you have totally gave up, you haven't, because you are here!

Hi. Thanks for sharing your story and your words of wisdom. Sorry you had to go through all that,

What you've said makes sense - trust our own instinct. It also seems to me that the therapist was negligent in not telling you the meds he's given you to take, what they're for, side effects, etc.

What are you going to do now? Change T?

Good luck.