Drugs and Psychiatrists

When You Fire Your Doc-

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Many times in my career of taking psychiatric meds I have had to fire my doctor.

Some were assholes, some were stupid, and some were too “woo woo”. A sketch I did in my first One Man Show, “Madhouse Rhythm” was called “Drugs and Psychiatrists”. In it, I roast all the different types of doctors I had during my adolescence. The Quack, The Expert, The Urbalist. The filming was at the JCC in Berkeley in front of about 200 people. Up to that point, in my young career, this was the best video of a performance I had. The crowd was into it (maybe you were there). In doing three completely new versions of this show, this bit was the one thing that continued.

My most recent psychiatrist has just been fired. He was like a robot, no feeling, spitting out the exact same lists of medications that never worked. His 15 min session would always have the same four questions: Are you eating? Are you sleeping? Are you suicidal? Do you hear voices? From those questions, he was supposed to prescribe mood altering substances that change how you feel and in turn, change your life. 

Not every psychiatrist is a pill pusher, although prescribing pills is almost their entire job. They are not psychologists, they are not therapists, and after you spend an hour with one of these professionals, you may wonder how the person in charge of the medication only gets 15 min with a client and asks the same four questions.

I once had a psychiatrist that was like family to me, Julia Anderson. She was someone with lived experience and advocated for me like a Jewish Auntie. She gave me way more than 15 min and had a lot more to say than ask me those same four questions. She advocated for me when I was hospitalized in Montreal trying to work with her basic French. She got me sandwiches during our sessions, and let her assistant think that I was staff. She came to my shows, tried to get me speaking work and even said she was going to recommend me to her niece.

Julia Anderson wasn’t your typical doctor, more like a relative. 

She worked with me from 2004-2014 and in those first 8 years I didn’t go back into the hospital. Even after she was no longer my doctor, I still would send her letters. The last thing I sent her was a receipt from the JCC in SF for Matzo Ball Soup. It had my name and what I had ordered. That's it. 

Certain people you don’t forget because of the way they make you feel. When I came back to Oakland after being in conservatorship by the state, I was in a group home where I started to regularly attend Kaiser Oakland. I would walk there by foot for appointments and groups. The first time I went in for my new psych appointment, I sat in the small dingy waiting room with lime green chairs. I missed Julia Anderson. 

Every doctor in High School had overmedicated me to the point of sleeping through class, she was the only one to give a sub-therapeutic amount of medication. She prescribed the right amount to keep from mania, but didn’t oversedate me. 

I missed having a doctor that cared, someone like her who understood that dealing with psych meds proved to be challenging and draining. Someone who would share stories of family as examples of the struggle I was going through. 

I ran into her by chance, when I saw the play “Next to Normal”, she was sitting in front of me. “Next to Normal” was the first Broadway show to talk about Bipolar in 2008. It came out the same year as Madhouse Rhythm. Running into her was like bumping into an old familiar face, who understood I never wanted to be on medication, but had a way of convincing me to take just what I needed, to get by. 

This week, I saw a new doctor. A stranger. At first, she was cold and I kept having to remind myself, this is a person that deals with crises all day. Recounting my mental health history, I felt like a storytelling menace. If you just tell the bad parts of your life, and only highlight the traumas, the highlight reel can be fairly grim.

The initial intake is the longest time you see a psychiatrist, the subsequent visits are check-ins. Her physical appearance and what I felt in her presence reminded me of Julia Anderson. Sometimes, you can’t go back to the relationships of the past, but you can find someone who fills the void. A doctor is like any other relationship and if it’s not working, you have to find the courage to let them go. At times we are trying to replicate the hits of our greatest connections, we must pursue what’s right for us. 

Thank You for reading and dipping into the hits of the past. Supporting Mad One is continuing a life’s work of making mental health humorous and accessible to those with similar struggles. This work continues weekly with your contributions.