The flip side of that is much of my angst comes from the fact that I feel so trapped, with no way out. Jason, taking the only car we have to work everyday (30 miles away, literally on the other side of the island) leaves me feeling physically trapped, in my own personal prison with whiny messy babies. No way out. On top of being stuck in the house for the past two years, I also feel emotionally stuck. Searching for some way to fill this weird void I have. I try different hobbies...crafts, reading, mindlessly sitting in front of the tv. Making crazy plans that I think will fix every thing. Something, anything. Only to find road block after road block, keeping me still...
Don't get me wrong. I love staying home and raising my children. I am thankful that we are able to get by with me staying home full time. And nothing gives me greater joy than being with my babies. In fact most days they are the only thing that gets me through it. But, aside from that, there still seems to be something pushing me down.
Now that I have gotten that off my chest, the point of the post.
I hate military doctors, loath entirely. They have no compassion, no bedside manner. You are just another patient, a faceless person to be checked off their list of the day. For the past year I have been attempting to get some "help" with my depression. Some one to talk too, maybe some medicine to balance my hormones...whatever. I have been through 6 doctors, every time I find someone I feel like I can work with, that understands me, they move away. Leaving me to find another doctor, each time taking me months to actually get the courage up to call and make the appointment. (I don't know why I find it so hard, but the thought of going to the doctors and starting the process all over, gives me major anxiety.)
The latest jerk du jour has pushed me over the edge. He refused to follow the same treatment plan left by my last doctor (who of course I loved, and had to move) and wanted to start all over. After being bounced around for a few weeks, I got put in touch with this lovely (insert heavy sarcasm here) Capt. Whoever. After talking with him for 20 minutes, sharing my history and answering his questions, I waited for his response, wondering what relief he would offer. Then he says "Have you ever tried going on a walk?"
Are you serious? You mean all this time all I needed to do was go on a walk and I would feel better. Go on a walk...gah. That is like telling someone with a broken arm to try swimming few laps. I do know that exercise helps with depression and stress, but don't you think I would have exhausted all my options before I decided to seek professional "help". I was literally speechless, and even almost hung up the phone, did he think I was a total idiot. I felt defeated.
I tried to stutter out some response only to be interrupted by him saying "You know, no amount of medication I give out will fix your problems..." (umm yes, I do know that....again, do I come off completely naive.) They will however allow me to better handle my problems, so I can find way to fix and deal with them myself.
But I did not say anything, I just let him keep talking. "Well..." he countinued on, I am only half listening at this point, "I don't really know what you want me to do, don't you have any friends you can talk to". (Yes, I do have friends, but thank you for making me feel like a total loser.)
He obviously was not listening to me, so I just let him do his JOB. He gave me a list of numbers to call, passing me on to someone else (I am starting to wonder who actually does their job at that hospital, or do they all play the pass along game).
I have yet to call any of them, waiting it out. He did give me a phone number I could call, that would put me in touch with civilian doctors, in my neighborhood, that are covered by our insurance. Best number I have gotten in months.
Maybe I will call it, maybe I won't....who knows right now. It is a good day, maybe I will just go for a walk.