At The Psychiatrist’s Office

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I First met my psychiatrist last fall and with this introduction came hope and relief that a solution to my PTSD would not be too far down the road. What I didn’t know at the time was that the road to mental wellness was much longer, full of obstructions and the road signs weren’t all that clear.


Now, nearly a year later, I sit in this quiet and unremarkable waiting room, questioning whether I should stay or say enough is enough and walk out the door. Whenever I walk into the main building of Mental Health and Addictions, I am reminded of just how uncertain my future is. I am but weeks away from being off work for a year. Sadly, I can still see the street sign that says “The Road To Mental Wellness” on it. that’s how far I have made it in a year.

I’m way too unsettled to remain seated; I’m currently in the throes of a major depressive episode, so I’m emotionally unimpressed by, well, everything really and now that I am alone with question to which I have no answers, I find myself burning a strip back and forth of the floor in the lobby, pacing and thinking, thinking and more pacing.

Finally, I remind myself that I started this mental journey for many reasons, my kids, wider family and my partner are but a few of them. I decide that it is best to stick with my “do whatever it takes” Mantra and wait till the psychiatrist comes and gets me.

While in the appointment, I explain that the new meds are as insufficient as the ones tried previously, that I have been getting two or three hours of sleep a night and my depression is at a level eight for the last week and a half; Likely brought on by the nightmares, that have made it their mission to end R.E.M. sleep prematurely and thus keeping me from getting the deep rest I need.

Need help to ask your Psychiatrist about your depression? Questions about depression

After providing her with a lengthy update, she writes out yet another prescription and hands it to me. I explain to her that after a year of pharmaceutical experimentation, I am not overly optimistic about how effective this latest round will be; I’m reassured that we will keep trying if it yields no real results.

When I walked away, I felt better knowing that I didn’t give in to the voice of mental illness, crumble under the weight of exhaustion and give up. Being a mental health warrior means, like that of any other type of warrior, there will be times when we want to give up, but we know we can’t, the consequences are too dire to wave the white flag and surrender. We got this!




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