Depression Talk

Dear Doctor,

Last fall, you tried to kill me. Perhaps it wasn’t on purpose, but nonetheless, I almost ended up dead.

Your error was grave, and the fact that you are a human being excludes you from perfection. I know that.

I went to you because nothing was right. I didn’t feel right. I couldn’t sleep or eat, I couldn’t think, and I couldn’t get my sorry self out of bed. Nothing was right and no matter what I did, said, prayed, or drank, it wouldn’t go away. So, you prescribed me some pills. And I took them and nothing got better.

I went back to you a number of times, and rather than suggesting that we try a new medication, or that we do some tests to figure out what was going on with me, you simply said that I should take more of the same medication.

And then it still didn’t work and you told me to try more. And then more. And then some more again.

And I know, I’m a grown-up girl. I should know when something isn’t right, and I did know. But I didn’t have the sense to stand up and say something about it.

Eventually I was taking so much of this drug that my hair all fell out, I lost my mind completely, and I had every possible bad side effect the drug offers … and it all got worse from there.

I ended up in the hospital and was ordered to quit that medication immediately. I had to be sedated for a month so that the shakes and convulsions from being taken off the drug so suddenly wouldn’t kill me altogether.

My father and my best friend wanted to sue.

I just wanted to get better.

I was angry, Doctor, for a long time. I felt betrayed by the medical community entirely. I thought about suing, I thought about writing big, mean, nasty letters.

I don’t think about that any more. I’ve moved on. I’m sorry that it came down to me being put out of commission for a month. I’m sorry that we couldn’t have figured it out earlier. I’m sorry that I wasn’t strong enough to stand up and demand a new doctor, or demand that someone do something to make it better.

But I don’t have the energy to be bitter any more. So, Dear Doctor, I think you would best be suited to treating things like Athlete’s foot and broken legs on the football team. Clearly you don’t know what treating mental health issues entails.

But I don’t hate you.

Sincerely,
Amanda