The Talking Cure, Pt. 2

Good news, I’m not crazy!  Well, not BAD crazy, just regular.  The therapist lady said “mild” depression and anxiety, so the Prozac and the Xanax should be fine.  Also, I actually enjoyed talking to her — the only other therapist type I ever talked to before was when I was a kid, and she just jumped to the “your parents are divorced, that’s why you’re depressed!” diagnosis without even LISTENING to me.  This one seems a LOT better.

I promise a longer post on Monday… when PEOPLE COME BACK TO FUCKING WORK!

Love, HH



Filed under La Vida Loca, Random Thoughts, White Man's Medicine

20 responses to “The Talking Cure, Pt. 2

  1. Sometimes talking to an unbiased 3rd party can really help, as do the meds! 🙂


  2. hah. I got diagnosed as a severe case of mild depression (seriously, what the fuck is seriously mild?). I think that any time you’re not actively slicing your wrists or drinking Draino you’re “mild”.

    I hope eventually things even themselves out for you Hoody, I’m glad you’re not extra special crazy, hopefully if this lady can listen and make you feel a little less crappy, then that’s good.

    (I keep seeing ‘Xerox’, and I keep wondering how photocopying things would help.)


  3. Well, hell, anyone would sound better after that quack you saw as a kid! Then again, maybe you are just still depressed because your parents are divorced. You should really try to let these things go, Hoody. See? I could be a therapist. That will be $150 please and thank you. Easy peasy.

    The hubs wants us to go “talk to someone,” and my initial reaction is HELL TO THE NO. I have a real issue with telling some stranger all my problems. But then he suggested alternatively that the 2 of us could have some really deep and meaningful conversations . . . so I’m thinking therapy doesn’t sound so bad now.


    • lemme tell you, talking to a stranger is NOT MY THING EITHER — Hoody does NOT admit weakness! But if a choice between having to talk to a stranger and having to let LOVED ONES see me cry, I’m going with the stranger. Loved ones will remember that shit.


  4. At least she listened to you. And i’m with you on the “what the hell is severe MILD depression?” Is there medium depression? Is severe depression what they diagnose us with after we’ve been hiding in the back of the closet for a month?


  5. I’m glad it went well! The last time I went into therapy (and I’m considering starting again, but I’m not sure I have the energy to start over, if that makes any sense – this moving every three years sucks when it comes to stuff like this) I was really afraid that when she reached into her desk drawer she was going for the measuring tape to see what size shackles I needed or what size headgear for the electroshock machine. Turns out she wanted a pencil.


    • I would have thought she was pressing the secret button to call the orderlies to cart me off. And I totally feel ya — I once moved 6 times in about 6 years and it suuuuuucked!


  6. I’m glad you like your talk-to person. And that she approves of you continuing to take drugs. Drugs can be good.


  7. A good therapist is worth their weight in gold. Unless they are like pre-subway Jared. Then that could get REALLY uber expensive, with all this hike in gold prices.

    OH… yes, also? Yay for mild!!


  8. What is it about mild depression? I’ve never met someone with moderate depression either. But hey….the mild stuff means the meds are more likely to work. So it’s all good.

    Therapists are definitely a mixed bag. I think you went to the same childhood therapist my friend DJ saw. They spent several sessions making paper airplanes because DJ wouldn’t talk to him. His description of the whole experience made me laugh out loud in the middle of Barnes and Noble because it was so scene-from-Woody-Allen-middle-class-Jewish-fucked-up.


    • AIRPLANES! That’s what I shoulda done, instead I just sat there and stared at her silently until Dear Sweet Mama quit making me go. The new therapist makes that one look like a sideshow!


  9. Will you share your happy pills, cause I could use that shit right about now but I’m too paranoid to go to the doctor.


    • do what I did, just tell your regular everyday doctor you’re depressed — they’ll give you the Prozac or whatever. And they don’t even care if you ever go talk to someone or not!


  10. My blog is my therapy. I talk (write) and hope someone is listening.

    Mmm, Xanax. I should get some of that for my panicky moments. Several years ago my doc gave me a few different anti-depressants to try. I only liked Welbutrin. Until I broke out in hives. On vacation. In a foreign country. Lesson? Don’t try new meds while on vacation.


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