You know how you have those little prejudices buried down deep? I don't mean major ones like racism or sexism, but I mean those little ones that are usually about the choices people make. Like disliking strangers because you see them reading the Daily Mail and so on. Well, I have a bit of an issue with psychiatrists.
I know, generally, that they're all different people and, like any group, there are good and bad ones and yadda yadda yadda. Before appointments- which, yay recovery, aren't too often these days- I give myself a little talking to about being fair to the doctor and go through what's likely to come up and how I feel about it. I think that's probably a hang up from being in hospital so long, and probably not necessary. But, my point is, I really do start with good intentions. Promise.
Anyway though, I'm pretty sure that if I ever came across a doctor who wasn't mine, I'd be as likely to get on with them as I am with anybody. I have even made conversation with a woman who thinks mental healthcare is full of 'druggies' (which she says with that tone, you know the one). I'd probably extend to them the same sort of courtesy as I would a Daily Mail reader- I'd give it a shot. Actually, in my last job I did a lot of meetings with psychiatrists and never had an issue. Its just, I think, when it's my notes they're holding and my life they're judging.
I think there are two reasons for this. One is from being in hospital. For that 2.5yr admission, I had two psychs. The first didn't like me because I wouldn't beg for shit. He wouldn't let me go see Gatsby when it first came out at the cinema, because I told him not to spit his dummy out over something. He told me that the staff didn't like me and all this power trip crap. Eventually, I changed psych and my new one was fair. Even though I didn't often get what I want, he was decent about it. I still get anxious about appointments because of the first guy, even though the second one was fine.
The other reason I struggle with psychiatrists is that most of mine have men. I know this sounds awful, but powerful men terrify me. I've been burnt far too seriously to entertain a fire. And psychiatrists, particularly as an inpatient but also in the community, have a lot of power.
I had an appointment today and it went as well as they ever do. And by that, I mean the doctor agreed to me starting to come off my antipsychotic (but it's going to be extremely slow because of how risky it is. I won't be off it totally for at least 6 months) which was good and exciting and I'll post about that itself soon. But then we had an argument about my diagnosis (that's another thing that will get its own post!) and he stormed off without doing me a prescription and then refused when I chased him. Another psych spitting his dummy out. Petty.