Larry Lewis said:Then just write them a letter and find a new doctor. I figured out one private practitioner right away was nothing but a total fraud—just someone playing games—so I stopped showing up, and that was that. There’s no point in all this "talking" nonsense; that's for people who can't handle their own lives—people who need a hand to hold—whereas real therapy should be about fighting your own battles. Honestly, I’d much rather pay for a coffee with a buddy than shell out money for $100 some psychiatrist just to sit there and chat.
Look, I've tried actual therapy. Deprozel, Wellbutrin, Xanax, Egoniyl, Sulpiride, Risset, etc.—all within two years. Stress is what kills me, plus being my own worst enemy because I care way too much about what people think. I'm a total softie. I cry over nothing, and everyone's words hit me hard, even though those people are worse off than I am. I just swallow everything and bottle it up because I hate confrontation, and then you end up with a massive mess. She was giving me meds meant for schizophrenics; I was a walking corpse, taking six different pills at once 😲. Seriously, who gives these people that kind of power? I helped myself more than anyone else, and it looks like that'll be the case again. Once I deal with this stomach disaster—whether it's cancer, an ulcer, gastritis, or whatever else—we'll see.🤷