I saw my psychiatrst and because I have been suffering depression, brought on by extreme anxiety, he RELISHED it and seem to change towards and and even said: you have been denying it for a while now, but you are finally accepting you suffer depression and because I am suffering right now, decided it was wiser to just go along with him and so, I am taking two different types of medicine ( not mentioning what they are, because if I find out anything negative, I won't take them and I must for now).
Therapist told me that within two week's, I will feel better and that in the intrim, to take anti anxiety tablets and so, last night I did what was requested and had an awful night. I was so tired, I could barely walk and nausea smacked me, but could not sleep, due to the depression tablets and thus, decided to not do as he says.
This morning, I woke without anxiety and put it down to the depression tablets, so for me, they are working immediately.
Even my husband seems satisfied that at last I admit I am depressed. Yet, when I went to another therapist, he clearly said I was not depressed.
I guess there are many faces to depression and one recognises it straight away, due to not putting it in a box ie you tick all the right boxes, but the other therapist ticked another set and declared I can't be depressed.
I hate being labled as depressed, but I also hate what I have been through. It whipped all my joy and each day was too hard to get through and sleep was my only salvation, but woke feeling dreadful.
Psychiatrists sure do like handing out medicine and I am seen as cooperating wth him, by taking medicine.
Therapist told me that within two week's, I will feel better and that in the intrim, to take anti anxiety tablets and so, last night I did what was requested and had an awful night. I was so tired, I could barely walk and nausea smacked me, but could not sleep, due to the depression tablets and thus, decided to not do as he says.
This morning, I woke without anxiety and put it down to the depression tablets, so for me, they are working immediately.
Even my husband seems satisfied that at last I admit I am depressed. Yet, when I went to another therapist, he clearly said I was not depressed.
I guess there are many faces to depression and one recognises it straight away, due to not putting it in a box ie you tick all the right boxes, but the other therapist ticked another set and declared I can't be depressed.
I hate being labled as depressed, but I also hate what I have been through. It whipped all my joy and each day was too hard to get through and sleep was my only salvation, but woke feeling dreadful.
Psychiatrists sure do like handing out medicine and I am seen as cooperating wth him, by taking medicine.