Look, this may not be GN fault. Even the very best radio announcer should not be expected to play shrink. Nor should they necessarily avoid using their celebrity (no mater how minor or undeserved) to make people feel better. BUT - this woman is ILL. As in I-L-L ILL! Ask me - I know. I worked as a mental health case worker for a dozen yeas before i had my son (at which point I dicided I only had enough "Mom juice" for one arena) I'm neither a doctor or a nurse - but i sure as shit can recognize a classic pattern when see one.
I also "suffer from" (yeah, that's how they say it, even if you don't particularly "suffer") a major depressive disorder myself - which, thank God, menopause, medication, and hard work on my part has more or less under control.
That reminds me of a funny story. BTW, thank you for that post. I was impressed by your honesty. You're not alone. I've *suffered* with anxiety and depression for years now, on and off. I used to dig my nails into my skin until I drew blood when I was 12 in an effort to bring myself "back" from the severe anxiety attacks that made me think I was having a nervous breakdown. I figured if I hurt myself enough to draw blood, that would distract me from the psychodrama screaming in my head. I never said a word to anyone about this, and never made a sound during these episodes. Nobody knew and nobody noticed the telltale scratches on my arms.
The first time I was suicidal was when I was 13. I've had numerous Drs try to put me on Paxxil, Zoloft or some other pharma, but I know better than to take those dangerous chemicals, that often do more harm than good. It depends on your chemistry. It's a crapshoot, and I've never been a gambler. Besides, maybe it's bravado or maybe it's ignorance, but I feel I can handle my problems by myself. On my own.
Having said that, I did go in for that *free* therapy when I was in grad school. As a grad student at NYU, you were allowed 20 sessions with a therapist and
group therapy. I, of course, availed myself of both. After going to different therapists on and off for a few years, I decided the *talking cure* wasn't working fast enough for me. I spent some time just trying to figure myself out and being introspective.
Anyway, I started to listen to this show on a local radio station (WBAI) by an Armand Dimele. He is an AMAZING THERAPIST for lack of a better word. He's like a horse whisperer for humans. He's almost pyschic. If anyone wants to listen to a podcast of his show, I'll post a link to his site at the bottom of this long post. He does not do long term therapy, however. He sees people on a one time basis and gives you a life plan (after telling you things about yourself like he has analysed you for years). He does not come cheap, however. The time I went it was $250 for a 50 minute session.
I had an appointment with him for which I had waited weeks. Foolishly, I decided to have lunch with a friend in Kew Gardens, Queens before heading into the City for my appt. with Armand. Anyone who knows the area, knows the obscene amount of traffic in that part of town, to say nothing of NY traffic (my apologies to those not familiar with the terrain). As usual, I cut things too close and left my lunch with just enough time to get into Manhattan, park and get to 57th Street, where Armand's office (The Dimele Center) was. I didn't want to pay $30-40 bucks to park in a garage on top of what I was already paying for the session, so circled the block a few blocks away and actually found a parking spot on the street. The only thing was, I was really far from Armand's office and had only a few minutes to get there before it started cutting into the 50 minute session (read:the $250 session).
I ran like the dickens down the block, wobbling on heels each step of the way. I was getting closer to the Dimele Center, when I had to cross the street. There were no cars coming except for one lone cab. It was far away enough that I could jaywalk and run across the street but close enough that it was a dangerous move if I twisted an ankle, or was not able to make it across the street at full speed. I took my chances (maybe I am a gambler) and sprinted off the curb at full speed to get to the other side. I had one eye on the quickly approaching cab and one eye on the other side of the street. Suddenly, just a few feet from the curb of the sidewalk on the other side, some yahoo out of towner stood there staring up at the skyscrapers. He was directly in my path. There was no way I could swerve at this point, such was my impulse. Then I did the unthinkable...I put both my arms out, pushed him away and screamed "MOVE" all in one deft movement. I did this instictively, not realizing what I had done until about one horrified second later, as I kept sprinting down the block, this time trying to put distance-literally and figuratively, between me and whomever that man was. Imagine a scene out of Seinfeld with Elaine pushing Jerry out of the way and saying "get out!" like she used to sometimes. I got to the Dimele center, sweaty and still trembling with adrenaline from my *run in*. To this day, I always wonder who that guy was and what he must think of NY. http://www.thepositivemind.com/tpm/index.php