Thread by @brokeymcpoverty

just had the psychiatrist appointment from hell. I am going to my favorite cafe to get some wine and tell this story so you'll know what kind of shit not to accept from a fucking professional.

im always paranoid about sharing this stuff bc i do it so often i get on my own nerves so im sure it gets annoying. but im sharing this bc 1 - if the shit that happens to me can help someone else its worth it and 2 - ppl shld know you dont have to accept shit treatment from docs

so my life has been updated with new problems, so i need to adjust the rx ive been taking so that it addresses all the new ones too (shout out to celexa, woo!).after a full month of trying and failing i finally find one & she can see me soon. i book an appointment.

the office was a bit of a zoo but offices are like that sometimes so i didnt trip. i get to the doctor and sit down. the first thing she asks is 'so how are you sleeping?'

she asked some preliminary stuff too, age, siblings, did i grow up with both parents, etc. but only a little bit.

so she asks how im sleeping and im assuming she's asking bc she's read my file or something? idk what file. at least the patient info forms. i figured there was a reason she asked

so i say i usually sleep pretty well but occasionally i do have a sleepless night, happening more frequently. she starts talking about how much sleep we need to function and how we can reset our body clocks and im like.... okay, cool?

so then i stop her and say im not here bc i cant sleep, and it only happens a couple times a month, i dont need a sleep regimen. she's like oh okay

idk when or how it happened but we finally get to talking about anxiety, the thing that actually brought me there, and she starts talking about the importance of going outside

"because when you sit and sit and sit the anxiety just gets worst." i agree with her because...well, i know that, and i didn't tell her that i have trouble going out, even though i do

so i start to say 'yeah, i do have trouble going out, and that's why im here! i want it to be easier' but she cuts me off. 'yes but you HAVE to get out, its so important, i tell all of my patients.'

by now im starting to feel a way rising up in me. i stop her and say 'yes, i am working with my therapist, who i have been seeing for over 6 months, on being able to go outside. i need something to supplement our work, that's why im here.'

yes, okay, she says. now the whole time she's been scribbling notes but i notice that she's also been writing out a prescription. how is this possible, im wondering, when she knows nothing about me?

so by now i got a good little attitude going. i dont trust her. im not comfortable. she's not listening to me. also... she never fucking asked me why i was there.

i realize that and im like THATS whats wrong. she's trying to treat someone she knows nothing about! im about to trust you with my motherfucking brain chemistry and you just out here throwing haymakers and telling me to take walks and get more sleep?

so it gets all the way worse yall

so she hasn't asked me about past medicines ive taken or anything, im volunteering that information, trying to think of the things that are important for her to know so she can hopefully not misdiagnose or prescribe me something that could freaking kill me

i feel myself getting more and more anxious, and i cant drown out that voice in my head going 'this isnt right. this is not right.' she'd snapped at me for something and i held my hand up to stop her.

i tried to explain to her what i was feeling but i couldnt. 'im sorry, i feel like this isn't going well. im not comfortable. youre being kind of aggressive and i dont feel like youre listening to me and...'

OH i forgot this part, when she was trying to tell me that i need to go outside more and i responded with 'i know, but it's hard,' she'd said 'well i dont know if i can help you, then'

and im like wtf what do you mean you dont know if you can help me? that's why my black ass is here, to get my black ass some help! why we wasting time if thats not what you here to do?

at this point im leaning towards getting up and leaving and i say so. 'if you dont think you can help me whats the point?' but id already paid the out of pocket fee (shout out to deductibles👆🏾) and didn't want to fight anyone about a refund

so i sit and at this point ive shut down. she's already judged me for not going outside, A THING THAT PEOPLE WITH MY CONDITION OFTEN HAVE TROUBLE DOING AND THE ACTUAL LITERAL REASON THAT IM IN YOUR FUCKING OFFICE, so i dont feel safe to open up and tell her anything else

and that is DANGEROUS. she's already writing a second prescription and she has no idea what my biggest issues are, what my medical history is, what my habits are. i cant trust her with the details of my life but im supposed to trust her with my brain? my actual body and health?

so. im watching her write the second prescription and i open my mouth to tell her that im also smoking quite a bit of the devil's flower to pick up the slack left by current rx. i immediately close my mouth.

i havent really reeeeaaaally spoken about my weed use but often times its the only way i got my ass outta bed and did anything at all.

im also not comfortable with how much i smoke, but there's no way in hell im bout to tell this woman anything so sensitive

but then im instantly like no, if youre not going to be honest with her you dont need to be sitting in this chair. you playing russian roulette

so i look at her defiantly, knowing she's going to look down her nose at me, and say, 'ive also been smoking marijuana to pick up the slack left by my current medical regimen.' annunciating like fuck. poised as hell. 5 ft 3 inches of attitude. fight me bro.

i was not prepared for her response. her face fell and she froze and just stared at me for a solid 4 seconds. real quick, turn off everything that makes noise and sit in silence for 4 seconds. THATS A LONG TIME

her voice is stoney and the room got 15 degrees colder, i know it did. 'i smoke it to deal with my anxiety' i say, if nothing else just to break the silence bc wtf this is creepy

'who told you that marijuana helps with anxiety?' now. this is clearly a rhetorical question but she's really looking for an answer. im about to say 'well ive done some reading and also past experiences prove that it actually helps me, whether it should or not.'

but naturally she cut me off and her disgust with me is palpable. she's trying to tell me what sounds like it could be actual helpful information but she's doing it while looking like she just slurped a bad egg yolk out of a dumpster

'it does not help. that is wrong. it affects your brain chemistry' BITCH. THAT'S WHY I TOLD YOU. BC YOU HAVE BEEN WRITING ME PRESCRIPTIONS FOR SHIT THAT WILL ALTER MY BRAIN.

so ive had it. i have had allllllllllllll of it. i dont yell, but i dont hide that i am upset. i cry. i look her directly in the eye.

i say some semblance of: i have to be able to trust you with uncomfortable information. when you judge your patients it makes them not want to open up to you. i have a therapist and a mother, im not here for life advice or a lecture. i am here for medicine management

this HAS to be a safe space. i should be able to tell you that i use heroin and not worry about my doctor looking down her nose at me. i need to be able to be honest with you. you dont make me want to be honest with you.

then im like, you didnt even ask me why im here. she says 'youre here for...' and rattles off something from her notes. im like no, you didnt even ask me why i am in front of you right now.

OH and i forgot to mention that after i mentioned smoking weed shes like im gonna need a urine sample.

......idk if that's standard procedure but ive never had to do it before, and also do you know how that makes me feel?!

and to that note i say to her im not out here partying it up on instagram, im not fighting you on smoking weed. i WANT to smoke less, that's why im here and you didn't hear me when i said that. and you never asked

i did NOT give her a fucking urine sample by the fucking way. absolutely the fuck not.

so i have a moment of clarity with myself and i say Shirley, (that's what i call myself), Shirley, it took you a month and many anxiety attacks to get here. see if you can get ANY good out of it. bc in the middle of her being fucking awful i could tell that she's smart!

also i spent a smooth $30 getting to her in an uber so im still tryna make something count

so i say you know what? let's start over. lets start from the beginning. ask me why im here. she smiled and said okay but i was like no really, say the words. ask me why im here

and *she* seemed to feel safe and comfortable then and she played along with me (peep how the black woman, even as she's broken down and asking for help, STILL has to comfort and coddle and carry and soothe. while not getting the same in return. ☕️)

so she smiles big and says 'hello! what brings you here today!' and i start from the top. anxiety as a child, yaddah yaddah yaddah, and now im here.

i ask her every question i have about the medicine she's prescribing me. we talk about my history linearly. i felt like she finally knew me and saw me and listened to me and fucking respected me.

i run out of questions, she hands me 2 prescriptions, and says see you in a month. i say okay even though i am MOST ASSUREDLY NOT GOING BACK THERE EVER.

before i left she thanked me for talking to her and apologized for how she made me feel which i genuinely appreciated. i reiterated to her that as her patient, i should be able to tell her *anything* without scorn or shame. no judgement. i dont deserve that

i ALREADY get that from the rest of the world for free, why would i pay you money to be treated like shit?

she shook my hand before i left, which she didnt do when i walked in, and i went by one of the frazzled receptionists and made an appointment that my black ass knows it wont keep.

i got in an uber to come to the cafe where i am now on my third glass of wine and feeling very warm about the liver. my driver asked me how my day was and i just laughed.

so the moral of the story is DONT. TAKE. NO. SHIT. doctors are intimidating bc they went to school for 500 years and they 'know more than you' but that doesnt give them carte blanche to treat you any kind of way

ESPECIALLY with your mental health. if you have questions, ASK. if you feel uncomfortable, SAY SO. if you feel like you cant be honest with your doc, LEAVE. you have rights and they have obligations. you're allowed to demand both.

also, if you ever do take that step and get a therapist/psychiatrist/psychologist/counselor, remember that you HAVE to be honest with them. they cant treat what they dont know about and they wont know about what you dont tell them. its hard but youre worth it.

(when i told her that ive never been asked to give a urine sample by a psych before she was like 'WELL LOTS OF THINGS HAVE CHANGED AND THINGS ARE DIFFERENT NOW')

oh and she ALSO tried to play my therapist and THATS when i was bout to take my earrings off. she was like 'i cant believe your therapist didnt say anything' and i was like KEEP👏🏾 HER👏🏾 NAME👏🏾
OUT👏🏾 YOUR👏🏾 MOUTH

it really sucks to be "doing all the right things" and still hitting wall after wall after wall. peace to everybody in it with me <3

zocdoc just sent me an email asking how my appointment was