Hi y’all,
My meds are still working great… I just have to get the Ambien
refilled so that I can sleep normally again. But my family is driving
me up a tree. A few years back I got tired of making up stories and
keeping up appearances so I started telling my family the truth when
they asked me questions. But they really can’t handle the truth. I
keep trying to explain it to them but they just don’t get it.
Everyone who’s professionally involved in my case right now agrees
that the depression is purely chemical at this point. And we also all
agree that the depression has been getting steadily worse over the
course of my lifetime, which is why we’ve been trying different med
combos to get it back under control. But my family never saw the
depression because I was so good at hiding it. This is because I’ve
done all the things that were expected of me and done them well, but
it took more time and effort and energy than it takes the average
person because I had to fight against the depression the whole time.
This is the first time I’ve had a severely depressive episode where I
couldn’t find ways to pretend that everything was okay. It’s the
first time I’ve had a depressive episode without any money in the bank
to support myself. (I just got out of school and being in school full
time sucked up all my savings.) So this time around I’ve actually had
to ask my parents for money for the first time since I turned 18. So
on top of me being honest about the severity of my problems, they’re
more involved this time because they’re helping to keep my head above
water until I find a job. But more involved does not mean more
understanding.
No one in my family understands depression, even though I try to
explain it to them. It’s like they don’t believe I could be right.
You would think I was still 12 or something, instead of a licensed
professional. They keep saying that I’m bringing this on myself, and
that I just need to snap out of it, and that they get depressed too
but they still get out of bed every day. The people in my family do
have issues, but they do not suffer from major depression. Disthymia
yes. Depression no. When I have disthymia I can get out of bed, too.
But I don’t have disthymia right now. I have depression.
My family also doesn’t understand why I would need to see a
psychiartist once a month and a therapist weekly. They still think
that I’m going to a therapist for childhood issues, even though I’ve
said repeatedly that’s not what I’m working on because I’ve already
dealt with that crap. I remind them that I dealt with that stuff in
therapy a long time ago, when they didn’t even know I was going to
therapy. I remind them that I like my life, but that chemically I’m
really messed up so I can’t enjoy my life, even though I have a lot of
good things going for me. They just don’t get it. I swear, if I was
still dealing with childhood issues there’s no way I would have
allowed myself to go to grad school yet. They keep telling me that I
should drop therapy for now because I don’t need it and I can’t afford
it. I try to use the analogy of a medical doctor still needing to go
see a doctor when he has problems, but they don’t agree. They think
it’s messed up that a therapist would need to see a therapist. I keep
telling them that most therapists have a therapist of their own, that
for clinical psychology grad students it’s actually required, but they
don’t believe me. I’ve only been in the mental health field since I
started college, why in the world would I know what I’m talking about??
I can’t drop therapy. I do need it. Because now that the crisis crap
is over with I can work on the other stuff I wanted to work on to make
me a more well-rounded person. And, I believe that therapy is a good
way to make sure that my issues stay my issues and don’t accidentally
get in the way of treating other people. It’s a part of the
self-awareness that is so important when providing therapy to others.
They also insist that I could get my psych meds from a medical doctor
and that it would be cheaper. Yes, technically I could, but I don’t
have insurance right now. A visit to the medical doctor would cost
more than the clinic I go to right now. And I have very strong
opinions about medical doctors dispensing psychotropic meds. I
believe that they shouldn’t do it, because the way the medical system
is set up in the States, doctors do not have the time to see patients
once per month to make sure the meds are working. Plus there are so
many psychotropic meds out there and so many mental health problems
that there’s no way a medical doctor can know all about them, since
they have to spend so much time keeping up to date about advances in
treating physical ailments. But a psychiatrist spends their whole
time doing nothing but keeping up to date on mental health issues and
meds. Of course, according to my family I don’t know what I’m talking
about there, either. No, I’ve only spent the majority of my working
life working in facilities alongside psychiatrists. Why should I know
what I’m talking about?
My family is over-involved in my life now that I live closer to them.
They keep forgetting that I’ve spent years and years taking care of
myself and that I have experience in dealing with my depression. I’m
pretty darn independent. I don’t appreciate the meddling, especially
when they don’t know what they’re talking about. And all the
complaining about having to help me out financially for a few measly
months is getting on my nerves, too. I didn’t ask for a dime for
college or grad school. Now I’m asking to borrow money. Borrow, not
take forever. And they’re acting like I’m such a terrible person for
asking. That I’m so lazy for not having a job yet. Blah Blah Blah.
And they go on and on and on. They never have anything new to talk
about. And they wonder why I don’t call them.
Yeah I’m really upset by them right now and I had to get that off my
chest. For anyone who read this far down, thanks for listening! 
Jen