I meant to write about this earlier, but a lot has happened. I finally got to see a psychiatrist, and it honestly didn’t turn out like I’d hoped.

I sent the email to my family doctor, letting him know that I wanted to reach out to a professional and start talking to someone about my anxiety. I felt that if I talked to someone on a regular basis about my anxiety and my life, it could help me. The doctor agreed and said he’d set me up with someone and would let me know soon.

About a week later I received an email that a request was sent to a local psychiatrist and that his office would contact me soon. Another week later I got the call and had an appointment with him the following Tuesday. Both of my parents had that day off, and since the weather was bad, they decided to drive me to my appointment. I was supposed to arrive 20 minutes early, but because of traffic I arrived exactly at 9AM when my appointment was meant to start. However, I had to sit and wait an extra 20 minutes because apparently the psychiatrist didn’t know if I was going to show up for the appointment. Last night they called my home and left a message with my mom for me to call and confirm I was going, and my mom forgot to let me know.

Once the psychiatrist arrived, I was ushered in to what I wouldn’t exactly consider an office. It looked more like a storage closet. (Note: the office is at my local hospital and apparently isn’t his head office) It had two or three hospital beds, as well as a few hospital tools, which instantly set me off on a tangent of irrational thoughts. “He’s not going to use any of those, right?”

Once he had his tablet and computer booted up, he started asking me the basic questions, age, what I did for a living, where I lived, my past, my relationships, etc. When I told him about the small community where I was raised, he cut me off and said, “You’re from there? People from there curse worse than a sailor.” I kind of laughed it off; the community I was raised in has a bad rap for being a “hick” community and we become the butt of peoples’ jokes often. The doctor then went on to talk about how he has another patient, who he also named who was from the same community and how she cursed all the time and she had anxiety as well. After discussing it with my mom, the woman he told me about is actually our cousin, and it was unprofessional of the doctor to discuss another patient in that manner.

We continued talking, and I must have babbled on for too long, because he eventually cut me off and said, “You’re a talker aren’t you?”

After asking me all the questions he had, and listening to me describing my anxiety and symptoms, he wrote up a note to fax to my family doctor. He confirmed that I did have Generalised Anxiety Disorder, but that I also had Panic Disorder. He recommended that my family doctor either up my medication, or wean me off my current meds and start me on something else.

I asked him when the next appointment would be. He responded that I wouldn’t be seeing him again, this would be the first and last time. That honestly upset me. So I was sent to him just to confirm my diagnoses? That’s it? What about talking to someone about my anxiety and helpful tips/advice that could help me control my anxiety?!

So that’s it. My family doctor upped my current meds, and the subject of talking to someone was dropped. Kind of a major letdown for me. I guess that if I want to talk to someone, I’ll have to seek someone out myself, and unfortunately I’m not sure if I can afford it at the moment. That’s why, if my doctor recommended it, then it would go through the hospital and be free for me.

Does anyone see a therapist/psychiatrist? Any good/bad experiences?