Coffee, Smithers

I'm so unmotivated today that I can't even make coffee, even though that's the only thing that will cure me.

I had a really bad experience with my new St. Augustine psychiatrist. He basically accused me of being a drug addict in the lobby of his practice. Re-read that sentence and think about how unprofessional that is.

I've been depressed since moving to Florida (please insert no jokes, I really do love it here), so I went to a psychiatrist for psychiatric help. I only sort of got help. Most of what I got was fear and shame, and I'm terrified to go back to him if he's going to keep violating HIPAA laws and yell at me in his lobby about my legally prescribed medication.

I haven't slept well since seeing him. When he decided what medication I should have, I was too afraid to contradict him, even though it was contrary to my current medical regimen. It's just not the right medicine, and now I can't sleep.

I'm miserable from the no sleep and the medication, and I'm miserable from the way he treated me, but I don't see an easy solution. I called him and left him a voice mail where I admitted to being afraid of him and that it was the wrong medication, but what will he say? What will he do? Will he yell at me for being a drug addict again and then make fun of me to his staff?

I'm working on getting a new doctor, but somehow I foresee a commute to Jacksonville in my near future. Supposedly scary unprofessional guy is the best game in town.

As a slightly related aside, I dreamt I was in Chicago this morning as I woke up. I woke thinking, "I'll go to the store and buy some Fred Soll's incense, and that will make me happy." Then it dawned on me that I was in St. Augustine and I'd have to order Fred Soll's off the internet.

It's the weird things like that that make me miss Chicago. Not the beautiful skyscrapers, not the green river, not my wonderful old neighborhood. It's incense and that shop in China Town where you can eat Lotus Cakes. It's Whole Foods house brand soy milk and almond butter. It's walking to my psychiatrist's office after work where I was treated kindly and professionally. They add up, the little odd moments that I took for granted.

St. Augustine may be it's own paradise, but its charm doesn't get me almond butter.