Thursday, July 7, 2016


I came home from the shore (as we in the Philly area call the beach) knowing a few things about myself.

Number One-I needed help with my anxiety.

Number Two- People who do not have anxiety or depression do not "get" it at all. My wife and kids just thought I was crazy.

And number three -People who actually spell out numbers in writings instead of just using the actual number, are two thirds more likely to be an idiot than those who just use the numbers on the 1 keyboard they are typing on.

Oh and number IV--Things were not right in my world. I couldn't explain it. I couldn't figure it out. All I know is, at that time, I was feeling like I was water skiing in a leather Jacket.

I talked to Rose about the Sharks.

 Rose had been my part time therapist for the past year. I say "part time" because I only would go see her every so often to talk about the minor anxiety issues I was having. Rose, an attractive woman in her mid 50's, at the end of every appointment, would push her reading glasses down to the edge of her nose, read her chart look up at me and ask "Why are you not taking medication for anxiety?"

I always responded the same way.  "I am allergic to many different medicines. The side effects usually are too much to deal with versus the benefits of the drug."

This appointment, the appointment about the Sharks, was the first time I was able to explain in a way that Rose and I could understand what was going on in my head. She pushed her reading glasses to the end of her nose, looked at her chart, looked up at me and said, "You need to take medication for anxiety."

"Why?" I asked.

"Because the anxiety and depression are affecting your life. They are getting in the way of you being able to enjoy your life."

"Yeah, but..."

Rose cut me off. "Think of anxiety as a disease."  she said as she pushed her glasses back up her nose. "If you had diabetes would you take insulin?"


"Then think of the medicine as insulin for your brain."

I sighed. "Ok. Can you prescribe something for me?"

"No." Rose smiled. "You need to see your regular physician for that."

I had to call my doctor's office several times to make an appointments as well as getting referrals to make sure I would see the right kind of doctor. Each person I spoke to I had to explain the reason for my call. I had to tell them about the Sharks. I had to tell them about how I needed insulin for the brain. I had to tell them I was crazy.

HIPPA privacy laws are such bullshit.

Things were about to get hard.

1 comment:

  1. Thank you for sharing this journey. I am currently avoiding taking the medication that was prescribed for me because of the fear of side effects. Please keep posting.