Juan

It felt rushed, like I was just another number.

When I went to pick up the prescription, my insurance barely covered it.

It was one of the more expensive antidepressants at the time.

I don't remember the name, but I decided not to get it.

I didn't even take the samples she gave me

When I told my therapist, she said I should just go back and ask for something else.

So I did.

I made another appointment, told the same nurse practitioner, and the experience was basically the same.

Quick, rushed, and disconnected.

But this time, the medication she prescribed me was cheap, so I tried it.

I took it for about half a year before quitting.

I wasn't feeling any different.

And I stopped seeing both therapists,

and the nurse practitioner.

I felt like I had opened up and done my part, but nothing improved.

My therapist didn't seem very empathetic, and the whole thing just felt like a dead end.

I even stopped antidepressants cold turkey, which I knew wasn't the right way, but at the moment, I honestly didn't care.

I walked away feeling like the whole process had been a sham.

So I went back to depending on myself and carrying the mental suffering alone.

Toward the end of my relationship with my kid's mom, things were getting really heavy.