Half of me wanted to go to the psychiatrist. Half of me didn’t want to. In the end, the other half of me submitted to the idea of going to the psychiatrist. There is no harm in doing so I thought.
The health mental clinic wasn’t officially opened yet when we went. It was one day prior to their opening. The doctor, my psychiatrist was the only one there that Saturday.
The session began with him asking questions, ranging from my appetite, mood to sleep. He then concluded that I hit 7 out of 9 depression symptoms and I was in a major depression. Knowing that I may have depression and to have someone, a doctor confirming it is two different thing. I liked what I hear but I also didn’t like what I heard.
I liked it because someone can confirm that there’s something wrong in me. What I didn’t like is that he wanted to put me on medication immediately. I hate medication of any sort because I always believe in natural healing or taking supplements that are natural, in terms of changing my diet or food intake and having enough rest as well as sleep.
The psychiatrist insisted that I take the medication. He prescribed a week of medication for me because he saw my reluctance and at the same time felt the critical need of me taking it immediately so that my depression will not get worse. He told me my willpower was not strong enough. I could try but it’s not strong enough, he said again. No matter what other people advises me to do, I wouldn’t be able to absorb and come out of it on my own. It would be tough. He said there is a chemical imbalance in my brain. Something called serotonin. Someone with a mild depression would come out of it after 3 months. Someone with a severe depression would not come out of a depression if it’s after 6 month. Mine was longer than that, considering the fact that I calculated the change of behaviour in me after my vision correction surgery.
With much reluctance and trying to be open about the idea of taking anti-depressant pills, I tried one dose. I ended up feeling drowsy but felt my mood lifted a bit after I woke up from the drowsiness.
I stopped at there. Firstly, because of the drowsiness. Secondly, my family was not fond of the idea that I’m taking anti-depressant. The person who rejects the idea the most was my Pappy. He strongly felt that he needed to instill some positive thoughts into me so that my willpower will be strong to overcome whatever I was going through. Being a daughter and with my mum and sister who also shared the same sentiment with my dad, I tried. I tried to get out of the black hole I was in.
However, the last straw came about 10 days after my visit to the psychiatrist. I couldn’t help myself anymore. So, this time I went to see the psychiatrist again with my boyfriend, along with my parents. They took brochures from the clinic and understood more from the doctor of what I was going through.
I too finally submitted myself to start on the medication because I was suffering from panic attack. Those hand trembling and upper body shaking were signs of a panic attack. It happens when a depression gets worse. I had no other choice out but to seek medication and that was it. I was prescribed Prazovex for calming, Lexapro and Olenza as anti-depressant and Rivotril for the shaking.
Another reason why I was open to the idea of taking anti-depressant was because of the doctor himself. He checked on me even though after my first visit ended up with me not starting medication and cancelling my second appointment which was one week after the first visit. He wanted to know how I was doing and coping by getting in touch with my boyfriend. I thought that’s a very kind gesture coming from a doctor.