Exaggerating the crazy

It is really no wonder more women don’t get help when they are feeling nuts. Since my big admission yesterday I’ve dealt with several doctor’s offices and one completely retarded insurance company.

It turns out, I have incentive to head into next week’s appointment and really crazy it up. If I’m only mildly crazy, it costs more per visit. If I’m severely crazy, its cheap. Gotta love the insurance companies.

I just want to thank everyone for their words of encouragement while I do this. Even though I’m not really sure what “this” is just yet. I can’t get over how many of you are going through something similar. It really makes me wonder if we’re not nutso afterall…maybe we’re all normal and the world just wants us medicated. Or maybe this is some sort of Mommy epidemic and our drinking water is spiked.

I have to say, its surreal to get call from a complete stranger, making sure you’re not suicidal or going to drown your kids. I guess it is standard practice for the doctor to check up on you if they can’t see you right away…but geez. I felt really, really odd saying “No, I’m cool, not gunna kill anyone today…Thanks for calling.”

In the meantime I have a pile of freelance to finish and kids to feed. Rest assured I’m good. We’re good. YOU are good. We’re all good.



  1. I just recently sought help for my depression and anxiety. We have decent insurance BUT I am having a problem finding a doctor who will really help me. They have given me antihistamines to treat my anxiety….and they have me on a low dose of Zoloft…it’s not working very well. They tend to NOT listen to what I tell them…I know myself better than anyone else. They refuse to give me anything to help with my anxiety…other than the antihistamine. I don’t have allergies!
    At first I was treated rudely. They asked a million and one questions about whether or not my children are safe…yada, yada, yada. YES…my kids are safe. I’m not so far gone that I would ever hurt my children and I realize that I need help. The women who DON’T seek help are the ones they should be worrying about.

    You’re right….it’s no wonder so many women don’t seek help with the way we are treated.

  2. Ohhhhhhhhh insurance. Right. Mine didn’t cover it when I went through it all. That is the only debt we have we are STILL paying off. SUCK.

  3. You’d think insurance companies would appreciate only mild situations.

    Alas, they are the people who thought I was infertile for over a decade–and neglected to notice I was on the Pill.

    Anyway, I am glad you are all good 🙂

  4. I hope you have a good doctor. Honestly, I probably would have never sought out help if it wasn’t for the fact that I really trusted my doctor. She’s an awesome doc, and I wouldn’t trade her for anything.

    Yeah, insurance is a bitch. The first time I was diagnosed with depression, my insurance company had me jump through all sorts of hoops to prove I was really depressed. If I hadn’t been depressed, all that running around would have made me depressed!

    Good luck, and stand your ground with the insurance companies. It’s far cheaper for them to pay for your treatment than to treat all of the problems that can result from depression/anxiety.

    Feel free to e-mail me if you ever need a semi-anonymous shoulder to cry/vent/complain on. 🙂

  5. It takes a lot of guts to even get that process started. Seriously. I really hope this all works out for you and your family.

  6. I hate insurance companies. Hate them!! Bastards. Don’t get me started.

    Good luck, hon..

  7. Good luck, QoS! Thanks for the update!

  8. There is no rational in the insurance industry. And the doctors I tried to contact while in this town would see me immediately if I was slitting my wrists, or driving the children into a lake, but not if I was just really bad off. Whassup with our system? You’re being thought of…

  9. Man, if you weren’t crazy to start with, the insurance companies could send you right over the edge!

    Hugs to you, been there done that with the whole depression thing.

    Don’t be ashamed, you’re okay. You wouldn’t be ashamed if you needed insulin or a cast on your leg, right?

    I’ll keep you in my thoughts.

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