Me (to my building’s gym receptionist, who I’ve seen almost every single morning for over a year): “Hi Deena!”
Her: “It’s Daysha.”
So I turned around, left, and can never go back.
Category Archives: Mental Health
Stigma, Part 2
Eric (after reading Stigma ): “You know, that’s so weird because I just went to the doctor today and he was like ‘Oh! You got married!….Do you want some Prozac?'”
Stigma
Went to see my general practitioner for my yearly check-up today.
Doctor: “Are you still taking Prozac for depression and anxiety?”
Me: “Yes, 30mg.”
Doctor: “Hmmmm. That’s more than you were taking last year.”
Me: “Yes…”
Doctor: “But you just got married?”
Me: “Yes.”
Doctor: “Well that’s a happy event! That didn’t help the depression?”
Me: “It was a happy event. I’m not sure what that has to do with my mental illness.”
Doctor: “I would just think the wedding would boost your spirits, no?”
Me: “It did. It also boosted my husband’s spirits– and yet, wouldn’t you know it, he still has diabetes!”
Yeah, so. I need a new doctor.
Productive Therapy Session
Me: “It really frustrates me when the kids I tutor just blatantly don’t do the homework and then lie about it. I mean, come on. I know you’re, like, 8, but don’t insult me. I can see your lack of progress, kid! I don’t even actually care if you did it or not– just, like, don’t LIE to me!”
Therapist: “That is frustrating. But yes, like you said– they are 8.”
Me: “I know, I know. I don’t know why it annoys me so much. But it does.”
(later in the session)
Therapist: “So last time we talked about your anxiety and the importance of meditating to help relieve it. Have you been meditating more?”
Me: “Yes, every day.”
Not once.
When She Says It It Sounds So Rational
“Let’s focus more on what makes sense for you, in your life, right now, and less on what makes sense for Kim Kardashian. In fact, as a broader goal, maybe we don’t make the Kardashians a factor in any decisions, big or small, ever.”
— Therapist, after I explained the reason for my current “Should I be freezing my eggs?!” anxiety-spiral.
Get it Together, Kid
This kid does NOT enjoy learning math with me…
Kid: “This is SO BORING!!!”
Me: “Well, I’m sorry you think so. But sometimes life is boring.”
Kid: (screaming in dramatic agony) “BUT THAT’S TERRIBLE AND I HATE IT AND IT’S NO FAIR!!!”
Me: “I agree. Life isn’t fair. But do you see ME screaming my head off and wailing about it? No, you do not.”
Because I do that at home, alone, into a pillow.
The Perils of Marrying an Extrovert
I get into the elevator with my headphones on, reading an email on my phone. An older man gets into the elevator with me. After a few seconds riding in silence…
Man: “So, I hear you like sauvignon blanc?”
Me (pulling out my headphones): “I’m sorry, what was that?”
Man: “You like sauvignon blanc. Especially from New Zealand.”
Me (nervously laughing): “That is correct…”
Man: “David [who I assume is another neighbor] spoke with your husband-to-be. Nice guy! Eric, right?
Me: “That’s right…”
Man: “And you’re getting married this summer, congratulations!”
Me: “Thank you so much! We’re pretty excited.”
Man: “But yeah, you two should join us for our wine parties. David and I are both big collectors.”
Me: “Yes, that would be lovely! We’re great at drinking wine!”
Man (as we reach lobby): “Ok great, so now we know each other. We don’t have to be silent on our phones in the elevator and hallways. We can have a conversation when we see each other. Isn’t that nice?”
Me (laughing): “You know what? It really is nice!”
This is literally my worst nightmare.
Therapist: “So you haven’t been writing much lately.”
Me: “Yeah.”
Therapist: “Why is that?”
Me: “I don’t feel like I have much to say.”
Therapist: “Well that statement is VERY contrary to every moment I’ve spent with you in the past 8 years.”
Me: “Aw, well thank you.”
Just realizing now that wasn’t a compliment.
A $300 Analysis
Me: “So I think I figured out why I can’t stomach seafood, even though I really want to like it. I try so hard to find seafood I can eat, but I’m just so averse to it. Then this memory came back to me out of nowhere the other day, but it makes so much sense. When I was younger I went on vacation with my family. We left our goldfish at home, unattended, because…well, it was a goldfish, so whatever. When we came back, I was the first one to walk into the kitchen and see, there on the counter, right where we’d snack every day after school, the goldfish– on its side, dried up, shriveled, sad black eye staring at the ceiling. He had probably jumped out of his bowl on day 1, either with a grand plan for freedom or a suicidal death wish, and been crusting over there on the countertop for a week. He was so plastered to the marble that we needed a metal spatula to pry him off. At which point my dad turned to us and said, ‘Fish for dinner!’ Which of course, in hindsight, is hilarious, but at the time I’m pretty sure I was horrified. But anyway, don’t you think that makes so much sense as to why I can’t eat seafood?”
Therapist: “Well do you like the taste of seafood?”
Me: “No.”
Therapist: “So it’s probably just that. You don’t like how it tastes.”
“Just remember– it’s fake news.”
— My therapist, re: the constant negative thought spirals in my brain
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