I am climbing up on my soapbox...give me a second....I've got short, chubby legs. Here we go.
Jurls, I have a bone to pick with you, and by "you" I mean all of you taking anti-depressants prescribed to you by your fric and frac OBGYN. WTF. Hey, guess what? An OBGYN is qualified to feel you up and poke around your private parts. He/she is NOT qualified to diagnosis your mental health problem and prescribe mental meds!
Would you go to your OBGYN for your lung cancer treatment? "Hello, Dr. Vagina, I have lung cancer, could you prescribe some anti-biotic cream for me?" "Why sure, Ignoramus! Here's a nice topical cream to rub on your chest. That cancer should be all cleared up in no time!"
It's the same thing when you go in and tell them you're depressed so they prescribe Wellbutrin or Zoloft. There are lots of choices out there for mental health meds and different people need different kinds of drugs. Only a qualified doctor, in other words, a psychiatrist, should be evaluating your craziness and writing you scripts!
Don't drive me freaking crazy, just go see the shrink! Isn't it better to spend half an hour talking to someone who can help you than to spend a lifetime in a depressed stupor? And if you are taking meds, but still can't get out of the bed, then they aren't working, dumbass! I say that with love.
I can count at least four female friends of mine that do this very thing and then wonder why things don't get better, don't get healed. Because you're going to the wrong doctor and you're on the wrong meds, dumbass! Again, I say that with love.
Listen, for once, just accept that I know what I'm talking about and follow my orders. Call a shrink and stop rubbing Neosporin on your tits to make your lung cancer go away.
And if you're an OBGYN (like anyone smart enough for med school would read this blog) then stop catering to crazy, sad-sack females (like myself) and send them to the mental health professional they need.