I was submerged in the psychiatric world at such a young age that it’s foggy to remember every doctor and therapist. As a child, my parents sat in on many appointments and usually did most of the talking.
As I got older and began seeing psychiatrists on my own, I felt afraid to speak up—I wanted to trust them. Medication is scary and often dangerous. I didn’t want to read the side effects or risks; it was easier to have them write a prescription and send me on my way.
I didn’t start speaking up about my own well-being to psychiatrists until I was around 16. Unhappy with my medication, I talked to my psychiatrist at the time, who casually mentioned that diabetes-like symptoms—such as blood sugar issues—were common with this medication and something I was at risk for.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I remember asking, shocked.
“I didn’t realize you wanted to know,” he responded carelessly.
While I’ve disliked many of my past doctors (in general—not just those in mental healthcare), I do wish I’d had the courage to say something before that incident. Over the years, my trust in doctors has plummeted, leaving me skeptical whenever I need to see a new one. Unfortunately, I often end up being right to feel that way.
The silver lining is that I’m very forthright now. I’ve had the same psychiatrist for the past few years—someone I highly respect—but I now have clear requirements, boundaries, and expectations for any doctors or therapists I encounter, both now and in the future.
I’ve been disrespected in ways I can’t fully articulate. Sadly, the psychiatric world is typically a space where psychiatrists, therapists, and psychologists can get away with almost anything at the patient’s expense.
I know how difficult it can be to step out of that hard-to-describe, odd comfort zone of staying silent and to stop letting your doctor act like a lazy pill-pusher. It’s challenging and uncomfortable to navigate. That’s why I wanted to share a few of my standards, as well as what I typically say in a consultation.
Here’s a summarized version of what I’d express to a new psychiatrist during an initial consultation (along with the implied standards and boundaries I carry into any patient/doctor relationship):
“I’ve been taking medication for most of my life and have been on dozens. I like to do my own research before starting a new one or increasing a dose. If I’m not comfortable with the risks or side effects, I won’t take it—unless it’s absolutely necessary, which is typically in very rare circumstances. I will not allow a doctor to talk down to me or disrespect me in any way. I want a psychiatrist who is knowledgeable, treats me like a human being (not a lab rat or an experiment), and is completely honest. If at any point I feel that my psychiatrist or therapist isn’t meeting my standards, I have no problem walking out of an appointment—I’ve done it before.”
To save time, I usually bring my own paperwork in addition to filling out the forms they provide (which, frankly, they should already have on hand). This includes a list of medications with dosages and dates, past doctors, other health issues, and any important or impactful life events. My current psychiatrist keeps my medication list on file, and it’s helped us both avoid playing an unpleasant game of psychiatric drug Russian roulette.
Reading this, you might be thinking, “You kind of sound like an asshole.” Honestly, you’re not wrong! But it really comes down to the tone you set. If I’ve chosen a psychiatrist, psychologist, or other provider based on good reviews, I want to come in with a tone that’s firm enough to show I’m serious, but also respectful enough to convey that I’m there because I need their help.
If the provider is a good, insightful doctor, they’ll completely acknowledge your point of view, and you’ll build a mutual understanding based on respect.
Starting the process of standing up for yourself can be intimidating, but it will benefit you in the long run. You are your own person, and you deserve to be treated like one—not like a lab rat.
Talya's life 