Yesterday I went to a psychiatrist for the first time. Based on what’s been going on over the past month and a half, my therapist really wanted me to see someone and to consider going on some medication. It was stressful getting to the appointment, and I felt self-conscious about being there. There were several parents there with children, but they seemed to be there for their children. There was this one man there who, let’s face it, was kind of handsome and totally normal-looking. And I thought, “Okay, if he’s here, then maybe it’s okay for me to be here.” But then his little son came in behind him, and I overheard them talking about how the son’s behavior had been over the past week (he, apparently, has difficulty being respectful to his siblings…didn’t we all?).
The session went fine, and I liked the doctor pretty well. She was mild-mannered, and she’s got children, so she knows how demanding having a new baby can be. She went ahead and gave me a diagnosis of adjustment disorder, because I don’t meet enough criteria for depression or generalized anxiety disorder, but I do have a sort of mix of those symptoms. It’s about as vague a diagnosis as you can get, and it has an air of impermanence about it that is refreshing for someone whose parents suffer from long-term mental illnesses. My greatest fear through all of this is that I’ll end up like my mother (and not in the normal way we all fear turning into our parents).
She prescribed an SSRI, and I started taking it today. I took my first pill this afternoon, and boy was that trippy. I got on the couch with Sadie so she could take a long nap and I could at least lie down. After a little while, my throat started feeling weired, the skin on my face felt a little numb, and I was drowsy. And I totally tuned Trevor out while he was trying to talk to me at one point. As in, I was cutting watermelon and he was talking to me, and I had no idea he was saying words out loud. We missed bath night with Sadie last night, so I had to make Trevor be the primary bath-giver tonight (he’s usually assisting me), so Sadie wouldn’t get dropped in the water or anything. So I think I’ll be taking my pills at bedtime from now on. It will likely take 2-4 or even 6 weeks to see any effects, but hopefully we will. And hopefully there won’t be any negative effects (as much as headaches and sexual dysfunction sound like fun!).
I guess, in a way, I was there for Sadie. I was there to get myself help so she can have the happiest, sanest, safest mother she can have.