I Have a New Psychiatrist (That’s My Life Now)

I Have a New Psychiatrist (That’s My Life Now)

My old psychiatrist retired (probably to devote himself full-time to his drinking hobby) and was replaced by a new psychiatrist. Unlike the old guy, the new lady is less than a hundred and doesn’t appear to have a drinking problem (good for her).

I bear no grudge against her (yet), but as per usual, I’ve been quite passive-aggressive at our first date. She surely hated me at first sight, which is only right and mutual because I hate people by default. This might explain my passive-aggressive tendencies.

My new psych person had the old psych person’s office completely cleared, so now she practises in a large and mostly empty room. I’m scared of open spaces, so here you go. Also, she brought in a new table and positioned it in the wrong place. I’m OCD, so here you go again.

I tried hard to conduct myself, so I didn’t point out that she ruined everything for me. (She even moved the nurse’s station to the wrong wall, and nothing will ever be the same.) We had the following largely disappointing conversation.

Psych: So, how have you been feeling?
Me: (What I thought: That’s a question beneath your profession. If I were feeling anything else than poorly, I wouldn’t be here, right? Elementary, doctor.) What I said: Poorly. (What I didn’t add: But I accept that it is what it is and I let it go, as my positive affirmations have me believe.)

Psych (staring at me): You look anxious.
Me (staring in a wall behind her): (What I thought: Right, that’s because I have anxiety, just check my bloody chart, duh.) What I said: Yes.

Psych: What about we try increasing the antidepressant dose?
Me: (What I thought: Whatever. It’s not like I’m a doctor. Oh, wait. I am a doctor. Whew.) What I said: Okay.

Psych: And what do you do?
Me: (What I thought: Ow fuck, now we’re going to chit-chat? As a doctor, you should know that it’s not what I do but how I deal with it. Also, don’t try to outsmart me. You’re no match for my intellectual arrogance.) What I said: Work from home.

Psych: You don’t talk much, right?
Me: (Nothing. Why state the obvious.)
Psych: OK, so see you in a month.
Me: (If I live to see the next month.) OK.

I guess I’m not a very amiable person. Actually, I’m sure of that because I spend a lot of time with myself and I hate every second. I’m such an annoying little smartass. Currently on more antidepressants than before, so we’ll see.

17 thoughts on “I Have a New Psychiatrist (That’s My Life Now)

  1. Well that was a rather unproductive visit! Doctor needs to learn more interpersonal skills? Hope you feel better Mara. 💕


    1. It was actually more productive than usual, I got a medication dose change, so I’m hoping it might do something for me. I’m very hard to talk to, so it’s not the doc’s fault.

      Liked by 1 person

  2. I was thinking what John said, which is why I didn’t ‘like’ this cause I thought the doc wasted both your and her time. Is that how these sessions go? Don’t they ask you about your childhood or why you are anxious? I think the conversation would have gone great (and taken up the hour you paid for! It’s an hour, right?, and you could have told her about your decorating ideas for her office. Oh, Mara–we need to talk! 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Well, yes, it wasn’t too productive but I got a dose rise and I think it might be good.

      It’s a psychiatrist, actually, not a therapist, and what the psychiatrist typically does is not to chat with you but to prescribe you your usual. I don’t currently have a therapist, I’m not into chatting 😦

      Good news though, I don’t pay for this, at least not the way it’s in the US, I pay for my health insurance and it covers psychiatrist visits and some of my meds.

      Ha, that would be a fun to talk with you! I wouldn’t talk really, but you could 😀

      Liked by 1 person

  3. Wow, one wonders what her grounds were for raising the dosage?

    1985 I went to a therapist/psychologist [whatever, NOT psychiatrist]. There was a small table with a box of Kleenex tissue and an ashtray (!) on top of it. We sat down. I waited for him to say something … anything. He didn’t. I waited … looked at the clock … I think I waited probably ten minutes. He said nothing. Finally, I gave up and asked him how he was. He responded; “I guess I’m the one who should ask you that question … ”. I said; “So, why don’t you? … I waited ten minutes for you to start?!” Then he went on asking me whether I had a problem with starting conversations … yada yada … I never went back. Next time I saw him was at the horse race track … he was sitting on the lawn, drinking booze straight out of a big bottle.

    I don’t know if you have the show «Dr. Phil» there in your country. We had it in Sweden before I left 2004, and he’s still around. He’s supposedly a psychiatrist and famous now, because of the show.

    A couple of years ago, or more, there was this famous sports reporter, who got dead drunk in a hotel room, started calling up people in the middle of the night, telling them what he really thought. This made big news headlines, and eventually he appeared on the Dr. Phil-show. The conversation started with Dr. Phil asking this guy, repeatedly, the following, relevant NOT question: «What were you THINKING???» At least three times he asked that question, to a person who’d been dead drunk and hardly knew whether it was night or day. I could have educated him about the effects of alcohol on the human brain … «you just aren’t thinking … at least not straight», but I just wanted to bang my head against the wall …


    1. Well, I’m glad I have a higher dosage, I’m thinking the pills aren’t working that well because the quality of my life sucks more than it reasonably should, I believe. The reason for the change of dosage was that it should help me to be less anxious, apparently. Which would be quite welcome.

      A good therapist is hard to find. I’ve had quite a few and I only liked one. By “liked” I mean that it worked for me, I was learning things and was getting somewhere. That was the therapist in the psych ward, so I couldn’t keep on visiting him after I was released, he doesn’t see walk-in patients.

      Your stories are horrible and hilarious. What the fuck was with those people? Drunk calls are now the subject for Dr Phil? I don’t know the show and I’m not even sure if I want to look it up or not. Is it funny or just stupid?


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