Today I went to see the she-shrink (previously known as N in this blog). I was determined to talking about my meds and why they haven’t changed in the two years I’ve been seeing her. But apparently, that wasn’t enough of a subject for her. She wanted to know what had happened with me during the last month. It was one of the hardest things I’ve done in weeks, but I tried to explain how miserable I’ve being. And you know what? She wouldn’t have it!
How could I be feeling this way, when so many “good” things are happening? I got a better job, I just went to Cabo, I met my brother, I’m thriving and growing! I was getting more pissed and pissed as she went on. I said none of those things matter to me most of the time, “It’s just I have the emotional range of a carrot these days N!”, she answered “Not even you believe that Chatte!”… I mean, god! Hasn’t she ever heard of metaphors? MAN! You’d think for a “doctor of the mind” she’d be a little less literal. But anyways, the session went on with her trying to guess what “happened” that made me feel this way. She wouldn’t have me telling her this has been growing on me for months either, and I had absolutely no wish of telling her about this little incident, so we were at an impasse.
Then I went on to talk about the meds, what if they’re making me feel this way? And I don’t want to take them anymore, I don’t see how her anti-depressivness are helping in any way. She said it wasn’t a good idea to drop them because I have very high highs and very low lows and the crazy pills help me level them. I said ok, but “I cannot take that darn Prozac a single more day, I mean it! Taking it every morning after two straight years only reminds me I’m a failure and I’m not getting any better”. She then agreed to “change” them, though in reality she just gave me an extra med. I silently accepted the sample box she handed me, and went home.
And now, after (obviously) researching all I can about this new med, I find it’s prescribed for schizophrenia and bipolar disorder. Really N? I get that she might want to use the med as an off-label alternative, but she could’ve handled it better, she could’ve let me know what the “official” uses were. And now I have so many questions! Why would she choose not to prescribe a regular antidepressant after I’ve been on the most traditional of them all for the past two years? Is she really going to substitute one for the other or what she aims for is to combine both?
I read that people who take this thing for the first time end of sleeping for even a whole day, and I can’t afford that ’cause I got a job, so I’m gonna take just half a pill. I’d ask, but as she isn’t to keen on keeping me in the light, I’m not either on approaching her unless it’s absolutely unavoidable.
I’ll report on my findings later I guess…
And why the change of name from N to she-shrink? I think the first one doesn’t do her, or our relationship for that matter, much justice. A letter doesn’t reflect how distant she is, or how stiff the way we relate can be. With her, it’s like the relationship is so worn out that I don’t even try anymore, and I don’t want to share personal things no matter how hard she tries. I always think I’ve let all the history between us go, but sometimes the moment I enter her office something switches and I’m on defense mode. This time, it was the new secretary. She recently changed offices and whereas she used to be alone and see her patients in a house turned shrinks offices, now she’s in a full-on doctor’s building. I pressed the buzzer, and she wasn’t the one who answer, I had to go into a waiting room with magazines and business cards, where the secretary called her through the commuter to let her know I had arrived; for me, this was almost as shocking as if she had received me in a white gown. Had I noticed this before, I would’ve mentioned it I guess, but it’s only now that I realize how uncomfortable the whole thing was for me.
For now, I have another frustrating session behind me, though hopefully I’ll be able to fix this talking, as I don’t feel as other times, when I even intended to stop going at all.