Guest Blogger Dr. Thomas Franklin Writes About His Own Experiences With Major Depression and Why He's Doing A Triathlon

Becoming an Ironman for Myself and My PatientsThe sliver of light coming under the door of the windowless office seemed unbearably bright and offensive. I turned away from it and closed my eyes. There is a flat spot on the back of my head that, if angled just right, would lie on the textbook I was using as a pillow. In a few moments, I would be asleep again. I was supposed to be out seeing patients, but it was all I could do to show up at work and hide in my office. My supervisor was a gentle woman who would come check on me a couple of times a day. She would crack the door and ask, “Dr. Franklin, why don’t you come out and see one of the new patients?” “I can’t. I just can’t... I’m no good to anyone.”Drifting in and out of consciousness in that dark room seemed far superior to being up and about, feeling the pain that seemed to emanate from my chest and flow throughout my body. It was as if my blood had been replaced by some impossibly dense material that could barely flow, making every step I took an effort. If I didn’t lie on that floor and feel my body supported all the way from that flat part of my skull to the small of my back, to the backs of my ankles, it felt like I might fall through to the center of the earth, through the dirt, rock, and then to the molten core where I would be incinerated. I wondered if that might be better than living like this.Fearing Stigma but Seeking HelpI was a psychiatric intern at the time, and I ...
Source: Shrink Rap - Category: Psychiatry Authors: Source Type: blogs