I have been struggling with bouts of depression since I was in junior high school. There’s no real shame in it – after all, everyone in my family is prone to it. It isn’t a “hush-hush” thing is all I’m trying to say. We practically sprinkle meds on our Activia! (No, we don’t!) But I have been on various medications in the whirlwind that has been my lifetime and none have really been that miraculous. For me, it’s the balance of therapy and medicine together that really does the trick. Yet in my busy lifestyle (going to bed early, waking up late), it’s very hard to find time for therapy and so I settle on meds and putting on a good face.
My situation is not as dire as I am making it sound; in reality, I am a chipper homebody with lots of hobbies and lovers. But the point is, I went to a different doctor today to get back on good ol’ Prozac. This new doctor was supposedly young, pretty and my parents said she was nice so I was super stoked to meet her. I showered, made flirtatious faces in the mirror, picked an “I’m depressed but I’m hot” outfit and hit the road! Boy, was I excited to meet this new doctor! Maybe we would turn into gal pals; or, maybe we’d see each other and immediately start hugging, crying and making out! All of these thoughts were running in my head a mile a minute as I sat patiently in the waiting room as though I was a normal citizen who was absolutely not wearing underpants from when she was thirteen years old.
Yet in the short fifteen minutes of talking to me, the gorgeous doctor asked if I was homicidal probably 4 different times. I was pretty stunned. I mean, I answered with a causal “nah” but in my head I was like, “Does this lady really think I’m homicidal and what the hell would she think if I said yes just to try to be funny?” which I came close to doing. I guess it’s standard questioning for a patient but this really got to me. I’ve been going to different doctors for anti-depressants since I could walk practically and she is the first one who has ever asked such an insane question over and over Also, if I was, why would I be confiding in her about it? She was so cold and acted like I needed a strait jacket. The repetition of the word “homicidal” haunted me as I plodded out of the doctor’s office into the parking lot where I waited for my mom to pick me up just like a homicidal maniac would! I recounted this to my mother, who was horrified. She took my side, of course, and we were both very confused as to why the accusation was thrown at me several times.
Hey, I’m a Catholic girl from Connecticut – the closest I’ve ever been to homicidal was when I thought about “killing” my first AOL screen name, which was “Charmgirl727”. And now this lady (who I thought of as a potential soul mate for probably about 15 seconds) was under the impression that I was capable of even thinking about killing someone. It is hard to find fault with her, though, when thinking about all the violence there is and how her question is actually relevant for anyone who suffers from anxiety and depression as I do. I just wish the question was not harped on so much so that it made me think about my own dark infatuations. For example, I love Dean Koontz books and reading about serial killers. Also, I’m morbidly obsessed with Charles Manson and cults in general. For God’s sake, the last thing I watched on Netflix was Dahmer and I pray to the dark Lord, Satan, every single night! My point is that if this doctor wants to be my soul mate, she might want to try a different approach than “Are you homicidal?”
Am I right?