Fury

Two Doctors Appointments. The one at 9am, was sort of ok. She said my iron was low. She hasn't referred me to a gynaecologist yet. I tried to tell her about how I was feeling with the drugs, but she wasn't really interested. That's the psychiatrist department. Never treat a person as a whole. Different parts of the body need different doctors. Never put it all together to make one person.
Then I went home and slept on the sofa until 12 pm. I don't think I'm sleeping. Lots of vivid nasty dreams and nausea.
So I got up and yelled at the kids for the state of the house, which was a bad thing to do. Not their fault I feel shit.
I went early to the psychiatrists office. I was feeling a bit unwell, almost fluey. I was a bit teary but didn't want to cry.
A nightmare ensued.
I turned into this ball of fury. I was so angry and exasperated by everything. Frustration and pent up emotions.
I told him I was angry, I said it was because I felt unsupported and not understood. I was mad because I hadn't been told about the withdrawal effects of Venlafaxine.
He was quite unbelievable. He started by telling me that I shouldn't be getting any withdrawal effects. The effexor had been dropped at a two weekly interval and as such I should get no problems.
I tried to give him my symptoms but he kept interjecting , with "What do you want me to do about it" he said I could go back on effexor. He offered me a Benzodiazepine to calm me and some sleeping pills. I nearly choked.
He said he was going to refer me to psychotherapy to deal with my anger. (Hilarious really if I wasn't so angry)
He didn't listen, he didn't pick up on key things I was trying to say. As a consequence my fury got more personal and I told him, he was 'just' a SHO (junior doctor) who really had no idea what I was feeling or experiencing. I'd seen 5 doctors in 5 months.
Then he told me that he wasn't there to 'help' me. He was there to dish out the pills. "So let me get this straight" I said incredulously "You are here to deal with medication, nothing else?"
That's right" he told me. I zipped up my bag and left the room. Slamming the door as I left. When I got outside the building I was so wound up that I shouted at the building. "Evil vile man".
People turned round and looked. I then sobbed my way to the car. I walked across the road in the path of the traffic. I had this wish that someone would hit me, or nearly hit me and I could shout "Kill me then" at them.
I got to the car park and couldn't find the car. I stumbled around for a while then realised I'd walked right past it.
Why did I get so upset? Maybe weeks of feeling upset and unsupported and then to have some jumped up little junior doctor tell me that I shouldn't have those symptoms. Prat. Read the internet mate.