Today was the day I met the psychologist. She was a very nice, older woman. I felt comfortable talking to her, but her office was small. I could hardly breathe in this SMALL office, but I guess having an episode right at that moment, would be perfect. That way, she could see all of the physical changes I would experience when I felt whatever it was I felt – turning pale, breaking out into a cold sweat and having difficulty breathing.
As I started to explain why I was there, I started crying of course! I told her how I had started taking Prozac two weeks ago because I wasn’t feeling well. I explained how I had reacted adversely to the Prozac and ended up in the ER. I told her that I stopped taking the evil drug immediately, but was still feeling the effects of it. I managed to get out a few more sentences like, “I don’t know what is happening to me!”, “I don’t know why I’m crying!”, “I’m having stomach aches and I am always nervous!”, “I can’t take a deep breath”!, “I wake up in the middle of the night gasping for air and trembling!”, “I cannot think about anything else except the nervousness!” and “I cannot function!”
She looked at me and said, “well, what we have here is a full-blown anxiety disorder!” I proceeded to explain that I had never been a “nervous” person. I was always in control of my emotions and hadn’t cried this much in my entire life! I was never afraid of anything! I never felt like anything bad would happen to me! I was always laughing, loved life, love people and loved doing fun things! Why would I have anxiety now?
After explaining that she didn’t think the Prozac was the issue and focusing on why I started taking it in the first place, she told me that I needed to see a psychiatrist immediately! She recommended someone and after much debate, I agreed to see him. She even called his office and made an appointment for me, for the next day.
I really didn’t think I was having anxiety. It just wasn’t something I associated myself with. I was not a nervous person. I was actually mostly cool, calm and collective. Even when given bad news, I would approach the news logically and calmly. I was a problem solver.
In addition to not having anxiety, I did not want to take medication. As far as I was concerned, medication got me into this problem in the first place and I now felt I was too young to start having to take medication for anything. Medication is for old people!
…or is it? Continue reading here: Week 2 – Met the Psychiatrist