The Scarlet Z

I had my doctor’s appointment yesterday and it went as well as can be expected. I sat outside the clinic for about 10 minutes, my stomach in knots, working up the courage to just walk through the damn door already. It was strange to walk into a doctor’s office and to not know quite what to say when the PA asked me what was wrong. I’ve read a few accounts lately of other women going to see their doctors for similar symptoms, and it seems we all try to walk a fine line of communicating that there is something wrong, while not coming across as total Looney Tunes. Other women (and possibly men) tend to try to convey their sanity through their attire—a nice button down shirt with nicely ironed pants or a pastel twin set (probably not men in this case)—but I was stuck with my uniform, and felt an added pressure to come across as “normal”.

Turns out, I must have achieved the perfect harmony of normality and dementia, because the PA was quick to assure me, “Oh! We’ve got lots of drugs for that!” when I told her that I was there regarding my mental fitness rather than physical. I couldn’t figure out if I was relieved to hear that or intensely disturbed. I gave her a brief history of my trials and tribulations over the past year and that I’d been feeling slumpy since some time in October or November. Then the doctor came in and asked a bunch of questions about sleeping, concentration, eating, relationships, and on. It was extremely uncomfortable as I didn’t know exactly what the “right” thing to say was, and I felt under the microscope in a lot of respects. I answered as honestly and completely as I could, watching for some kind of change in his face or a different inflection to his voice, but he remained rather impassive (read: sat there like a lump, nodding every now and then, but mostly staying lumpish).

Then he asked me how I felt about prescription drugs to treat depression, and then I really didn’t know what to say. Should I be stoic and insist that I don’t need medication, just vitamins thank you, and internally plead that he would still do something to help me, or should I throw myself at his mercy and cry out for the drugs and hope that I didn’t look too desperate. I went with a sort of unintelligible combination of the two, minus the throwing of myself at his feet.

I guess he figured that I wasn’t opposed to a little capsule of sunshine and ended up prescribing Zoloft, starting me off at 50 mg for the next five days and then I’ll raise the dosage to 100 mg after that. I have no idea how large or small a dosage that is, but I’m assuming it’s not too large since he didn’t have a hint of fear in his eyes when addressing me. He also suggested that I could stop by Mental Health anytime I needed to, and I’m scheduled with a follow up on the 17^th. Maybe just to make sure it hasn’t given me adverse side affects such as jumping from high rooftops or beating coworkers about their heads. If I have shown any signs of jumping from buildings we’ll try a different type of medication until I’m feeling all rainbows and daisies, and bouncing along happily with bluebirds chirping and bunnies trailing along in my wake.

So, it feels good. It feels good knowing that I was brave enough to get help for this and it feels good that within the next couple of weeks I should start to feel more positive about life. I will admit that I also feel a little paranoid that I have it emblazoned on my forehead, "I need drugs to take part in normal day to day activities without crying like a little girl", but then I eat a piece of cake and feel more at peace with myself. I'm also a little nervous about possible side affects, but I'm smart enough to know if this is working for me or not, and now that I've made the first step, I'm not afraid to go back and say this is the wrong treatment for me.

Thank you for all your kind comments and emails over these past few weeks, they’ve been quite inspirational, and I really think if I hadn’t ever started this site and met such great people (and opened up to people I already know!) I would still be sitting in a pool of my own despair and self-pity. And despair and self-pity do not go well at all with my new shoes.

Comments

[Dawn]

Congratulations on having the guts to make the appointment, and go through with it and ask for help. That first step is definitely the hardest. ("Well, nothing is wrong with me, per se, but, well, um, I cry a lot?")

I hope that your treatment works well for you. I'd encourage you to stop by Mental Health in addition to taking the happy pills. For me, the happy pills helped me get to a point where therapy was actually useful to me.

Anyhow, congratulations and good luck. If you ever have any questions, feel free to e-mail. I'm not an expert, by any means, but I'm willing to share my experience with the whole mess.

[Steph.]

That's wonderful news and I wish you the best of luck with the Zoloft. You know, you are helping a lot of people by being brave enough to post your experiences. Someone might read this and go to the doctor for meds, when they might not have before.

[Killired]

hey there... dont feel bad for what you need... life is hard and if it takes those drugs to help, then so be it! i was on zoloft for a while... with 3 kids under 5 and a full time job, i had to do something!!!! it worked wonders for me too.. made me not so anal about every little thing that would drive me crazy... i liked it but after about 2 yrs of it, i switched to something else... i felt like i was done with it... doctor told me that with zoloft, other people will notice the difference in you before you will. good luck... it WILL get better! :)

[Maribeth McEwan]

I'm glad you went and saw someone. That's great! Let us know how you are doing.

[E]

Sweety, I take narcotics every day. It's just what I've gotta do. *I* have more issues with it and *I* feel worse about taking them than others do...I guess we just don't want to think we have to take something to be 'normal' (whatever that is). Think of it this way, if you were taking a pill every day for diabetes or whatever, would you feel as bad? No? Why? Focus on the 'medical' bit, not 'mental', ya know.

I'm proud of you for recognising that you need to do something to help yourself, and I'm proud of you for having the courage to share it. None of us are perfect, hon. I hope you start to feel better soon. :-)

[AC]

Reading this I was encouraged. I think I need some help. Peri-menopause, a 20 year old daughter, a junior, just now going through what seems like freshman crazies, a health and happiness challenged mother who needs daily care and I am an only child. I'm exhausted and filled with an anxiety that knows no reason. But somehow I'd not thought about getting help. Thanks for the point in a direction different from the one I'm seeing.

[Erin]

Good for you! Going into a doctors office for a mental health issue is a very scary thing. I think that is why so many people don't do it.

Give the medication some time. Most literature you will read says it takes 2 weeks. I think that is a load, and you should start feeling the effects within a few days.

Good luck, and remember, if you have any questions, or just need to vent, I'm here!

Hugs to you!

[Janet]

I hate the fact that there's a stigma attached to taking a drug for a disease if the disease is mental instead of physical. After all, who's embarrassed to take an antibiotic or chemo? Hi, Michele sent me!

[RisibleGirl]

Yay for you! I'm glad you were brave (and cared about yourself) enough to go see the doc.

You'll be good as new in a couple of weeks and this stuff will be but a memory.

[Killired]

how do you feel today?

check out my blog sometime this week and vote for me in a blog contest i am in! thanks!

[Russ]

It's all good. I took a little something while going through my divorce and it really helped. I don't take it anymore so you should feel comforted that it isn't a lifetime commitment.

[Russ]

It's all good. I took a little something while going through my divorce and it really helped. I don't take it anymore so you should feel comforted that it isn't a lifetime commitment.

[Anonymous G]

Good for you, honey! I'm proud of you for taking care of yourself and for having a great attitude about it. Looks GREAT with your shoes and doesn't make your butt look big, either!

[Nancy]

I am so happy you went to the doc's and they were able to help.