Frustration

The reason I began recording past events and present on a blog was to share the life of a person dealing with depression. It can be extremely frustrating, just like any ailment, however, what increases the frustration and difficulty of receiving help is that you can't see it. Walking down the street you would not be able to tell I had depression. In fact, I'd say the majority of people I interact with in my life are not aware of my disability. There are multiple reasons, but to name a few: embarrassment, fear and misunderstanding. There is a stigma of mental illness, which is part of the reason I choose not to share.
Even sharing with doctors at times can trigger these reactions. I had a resident at my GP's office a couple years ago who told me that I did not need to continue on my anti-depressants since I had been using them for over a year and should be fine by now. I was so upset I didn't even get around to asking what I had come for in the first place. Another incident happened last fall after a very difficult break. My depression symptoms obviously manifested themselves more severely than usual and the psychiatrist I did talk to did not take me on because he attributed it all to the break up. My argument against that would be the break up was a trigger, but definitely not a cause of the depression. Again this summer I was approached in the same vague manner by a different doctor when I shared my worries about increasing symptoms of depression I noticed in myself. The advice I received was to make sure I was eating a healthy diet and getting enough sleep.
There have also been doctors that have taken the opposite approach and taken action to help me, however, I really wish depression could be taken more seriously.
It makes me not want to try anymore. But I do. I have three appointments this week to tackle various parts of my depression. I'm going to keep trying.