I'm brand new here. My depression and anxiety were being managed by my psychiatrist and my meds. But then so many things over which I had no control happened: my now-former primary care doc misdiagnosed extreme pain that I was having, told me it was "just a muscle thing," said I had to go to PT for 4-6 weeks before he'd even take an x-ray. I called him back after I'd had PT. I was in agony. His nurse told me that that was "normal." Then I collapsed at home. Thank goodness my husband was there. He rushed me to the ER, where I had to have my gallbladder removed asap. Sent the pcp snailmail telling him how incompetent he was; wish I'd reported him to the authorities too.
Then I had a second LRTI surgery on my right hand. The first surgery had failed, and the second surgery did too. My hand is weak, stiff, can't do any fine-motor activities. Then arthritis appeared on two fingers of my left (dominant) hand, so now both hands aren't working well. Inputting, for example, is slow and difficult.
Five our our dear animals died this year. We take in mainly seniors and those with special needs, so I know that their deaths are inevitable. But it never gets easier to say goodbye to our cats and dogs.
I've run my own editorial services business (editing, fact-checking, proofreading, translating German, writing) successfully since 1985, working mainly for publishers of nonfiction, reference books, textbooks, scholarly books, journals, magazines. COVID has destroyed my business. I haven't had any work since August. My publisher clients have gone bankrupt, closed their doors, started hiring student interns who work for free, started keeping all editorial work in-house to save money. I've greatly enjoyed my business. I've always built in time to market my business. I've been applying for freelance and remote work and work elsewhere. Nothing whatsoever is coming through. I'm 67, and age discrimination is a real problem. Thank goodness my husband's job continues--he's been working from home for 8 months or so--but I'm used to earning money, paying bills, etc.
I've been studying Spanish--I think of moving to another country--I'm taking a noncredit class in how to sell one's writing, and I volunteered at the local animal shelter. The first two are coming along. The last was lousy. Despite 35 years of caring for cats and over 20 caring for dogs, despite having volunteered and worked for pay at veterinary clinics and animal shelters and having volunteered at animal rescues, all I've been allowed to do is clean. I got to actually interact with cats twice to help shy and semi-feral cats come out of themselves, learn to trust humans, and get adopted. But then the volunteer coordinator turned all the interesting work with dogs and cats over to her favorites, and I was left with scrubbing, throwing things in the washer and dryer, folding laundry, cleaning litterboxes, and having zero contact with animals. I simply stopped volunteering.
Then, during my last appointment with my psychiatrist, to whom I've been going for at least 15 years, he hollered at me and told me that I've "always" been "negative" and "pessimistic." "ALWAYS." Don't they train psychiatrists not to use the words "always" and "never"? I was in shock. When I got home, I called his office and left voicemail for him. "I felt terrible after you accused me of ALWAYS being and having been pessimistic and negative. If you've felt so, then why have you been treating me all these years?" No way will I be going back to him again. Psychiatrists where I live are few in number and not good. I'd experienced plenty of them before I found this psychiatrist. My meds aren't working, I'm suffering from a severe depressive episode, and I don't know what to do.
Well, having pissed and moaned enormously, I'll stop. Thanks immensely for listening.
Saying the wrong things
The connection between pets and ourselves.
What's wrong with psychiatric healthcare? 
When do things get better ?
I can't function well enough to arrange stuff like the job interview and going to the psychiatrist 
