I’m seeing my psychiatrist today. I’m not looking forward to it. The first time I met him was years ago. My doctor sent me to him to get another opinion on anti-depressant medication. I had never been to a psychiatrist before. I was anxious, but keeping an open mind. So I went to my first appointment and it was awkward. First of all, Dr. Dreamy is very attractive and he’s not much older than me. I guess I was expecting someone older and wiser, someone who wasn’t a peer. The fact the he was cute and making me blush just made it that much more uncomfortable.
I had waited months and months for the appointment, so I wasn’t going to bail now. I was okay talking to him about my anxiety issues. It was harder to talk to him about depression and my body image issues, but I did because I thought it was important. I had two appointments with him before I went back to my regular doctor.
It took Dr. Dreamy about two months to get back to my regular doctor about his opinion on my meds. He said the best thing for me would be Remeron. Remeron?! Are you kidding me?! Had he been listening to anything I was saying? I had basically told him I was obsessed with my weight and miserable because I was fatter than I wanted to be. I told him I was addicted to cake. Remeron is notorious for increasing appetite, especially for junk food and is one of the worst drugs for weight gain. I’m lucky I did my research ahead of time. Otherwise, I would have assumed doctor knows best and just taken what he recommended. Needless to say, I didn’t go back to him.
Fast forward a few years. I passed the 25 years old marker which was disastrous. I had to stop seeing my regular doctor because I was no longer considered a youth. 25 is also the cut off for being on your parents’ medical insurance, so no more private therapy. Therapy is a little expensive for a grad student. I tried the counseling services at the university, but that didn’t go well. A story for another time.
So now what? I started going to a walk-in clinic to get my refills. They refused to give me more than a month’s worth. So once a month I’d spend a few hours waiting at the walk-in. Yuck. I was put on a waiting list to see psychiatry (hope!). Then I found out they refer to the same practice that Dr. Dreamy was from. I made sure I requested a woman this time. Not only to avoid Dr. Dreamy, but I was hoping a women would take my body image issues more seriously. It took over 8 months to get an appointment with psych.
So I go to my appointment, feeling hopeful that I’d be able to get some real help again. I’m waiting in the waiting room and I hear my name called. I look up…..and it’s Dr. Dreamy again. Doh! Apparently since I started my file with him, I have to stay with him. Unfortunately, the past few years have been good to Dr. Dreamy and he’s still as cute as ever.
Since I didn’t really have a choice, I gave Dr. Dreamy another chance. He seemed better this time, although talking to him is still awkward. I feel like he is actually listening now. I’ve gone back to him many times, with long wait times in between. Instead of telling me what medication would be best for me, he has been asking what I think would be best for me. I’m managing my own meds? Does anyone else’s psychiatrist do this? At least this way I wont go on anything that causes weight gain, but I’m not a doctor, I don’t really know what I’m talking about…..