In addition to treating me for depression, my doctor also prescribed that I “Forget about the asshole that screwed you”. Turns out, I really did need a doctor to tell me that.
July 11, 2013
So I went to see the doctor today….
To cut to the chase, he diagnosed me with some sort of disorder, or “dysfunction” was the actual term that he used and is now treating me for. Now, I know that in our community we don’t typically do those things….but if I’m completely honest, I actually feel relieved. Please note that as light as some people make of the disorder, depression is a very serious condition due to the both physical and emotional effects that are attached to it. Clinical depression, as I understand, is way more severe than just having a bad day. Believe me, I know this because I live this. And while I’m not what you would call an “advocate” for the use of prescription drugs to help you cope— given the alternative of not being able to cope, I am definitely not opposed to it, either. Please also understand that I don’t take the idea of being treated for depression (with the use of anti-depressants) lightly, either. Especially given my family history of alcohol and substance abuse from both my parents and current status of my older sister for drug charges.
My goal is really to my secret desire is to conquer this…battle within myself without the use of anything long term. That’s not to say that I won’t don’t intend to take the meds, it is however to say that I don’t intend to be dependent on them in order to function. I don’t want that for myself. No diss to anyone who does, however. I happen to believe that God implanted me with a strength (a faith) that most people don’t have or may not be aware of. But that’s just my personal opinion. However, I do find it comforting to know that if this is something that I cannot combat on my own, then I have access to a means of aid, which happens to be in the form of a little pill called Celexa. And I haven’t decided yet, if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. To be quite honest, I’d probably have been just as relieved if he’d called me in a prescription for Skittles. Call it the placebo effect if you want…but I really intend for the drugs to be my alternative, you know, my “in case of emergency contact,” so to speak. Besides, I look at it like this. If God created the doctors who created the drugs, then how bad could it be? If you were to ask…in fact, if you were to even meet me, then I doubt that you’d even consider me to be “depressed”. I just happen to have more going on than I’m currently able to handle.
In addition to treating me for depression, my doctor also prescribed that I “forget about the asshole that screwed you”. Turns out, I really did need a doctor to tell me that. Although I refuse to give him all the credit for me going on anti-depressants, I admit that the last “episode” with him was, at least a contributing factor.
**Note to self: Send Dr. Rob a bouquet of Corso cookies!**
I don’t want to be dependent on anything other than You. At this exact moment in time, I don’t only believe, but I am standing in belief. I am spiritually encompassed in belief, in Faith.
Thank You for this healing.