I was assigned a lovely child psychiatrist while in the hospital at 16. My family was also assigned a psychiatrist. The funny thing was that my shrink and the family shrink were married. Not only were they married, they shared information about me without my knowledge or consent. Ruh-roh, Rappy.
I refused to see a professional after that. For a long, long time. Until recently when I felt I couldn’t cope with opening my eyes and remaining – simply remaining – until nightfall when I could close them again. I bounced my depression off my OB/GYN mostly during the years simply because, well, he freakin’ listens to me! He finally referred me to a counselor at a particularly low point. She was so sweet. But – bless her heart – the minute she said the words “emotional incest,” I was out of there.
I’m now supposed to see a psychiatrist because my general doc thinks I have ADHD. And I’m already on so many meds that she’s uncomfortable to add on other things like that. However, I’m supposed to go see the same shrink T is supposed to see. Obviously THAT isn’t going to happen!