Another WTF moment in my life yesterday: Really? Seriously, Doc, Really? [View all]

Had a follow up appointment yesterday with the psychiatrist. The last time I was there, a major topic of our discussion was my deep fear of being stigmatized, treated differently, and all of the things in my own mind that I felt it could lead to. And I told her I was really, really debating about what, if anything, to tell family and the greater outside world.

She asked yesterday about this, and I told her my decision to keep absolutely quiet and not tell anyone.

It was her reaction and comments that threw me for a loop.

She said that she felt it was important for patients to not "feel any shame" in their diagnosis and to be open about it, because she felt that everyone involved with mental health issues from any position, patients, professionals, family, etc., should be open because it helps to break down the stigma against people with mental illness. And, more importantly, she said that she worries about patients who suffer from shame or fear about the issue because it leads to anxiety and depression. She is right in theory, I can see all of that. And it does a disservice to everyone else in the world that I feel this way, I know it is something I shouldn't feel ashamed of. But I do, deeply.

And in practice, sorry, I'm not ready to be a Rosa Parks or a Caesar Chavez and stand up, no matter how just the cause. It's just not in me, I'm doing pretty well, in my opinion, just picking up the shattered pieces of my life.

So, WTF -- if she had just done what I wanted to do in the first place, handle this all very discretely, I wouldn't be in the position of having to hide these big events in my life from the entire world. Like spending 3 weeks at the psychiatric ward, and then having to try to explain away why I needed time off from work, and trying to explain away at home all of the resulting chain of events which came about from the unbelievable stress of the whole thing. I know that I gave her ample good reason to insist upon it, but I still feel rather betrayed that I was forced into doing something that I didn't want to do.

And above all, I wouldn't be in the position of fearing that my life could be ruined by the shame and stigma of this whole thing if it just had been handled very quietly. And yes, it does lead to depression, because I'm about a depressed today as I have been since I "got out" of the psychiatric ward. Depression with a heaping side of anxiety.

I know she's right, I know I'm wrong, but I just can't go there right now and confront it. Because I still think if the world really knew what went on with me, what is going on with me, it's out in the gutter with me. Same old fear. Same old irrational fear.

So, another thing I have to overcome, how I am feeling right now, which is low and worthless and fearful. I've wallowed in it for 14 hours, I'm done with it by the end of the day because I refuse to give in to this, and I'm NEVER going back to where I was this summer, NEVER. Time to put on the game face and get going, because that's the only way I know to fight it.

But I really would love to ask her, in the sarcastic smart alec way Amy Poehler used to say it in those Weekend Update segments on Saturday Night Live, "Really, Doctor, Really????"

I may be wrong, but I'm still pissed off.