The Effexor Lady
This woman was brought to me twice for counseling by a woman I
befriended named Trisha Tennyson. Trish lived in a vehicle which was tolerated
by the authorities despite bearing expired license plates. The woman had been severely
depressed and never left her home, I was told. Trish said she had to try for
months to have the woman see me. This was a clue on something beyond the scope
of this summary. The “patient” denied suicidal ideation but told me of a
lifeless marriage and did not think the medication was helping, nor was her
husband or family. The doctor, as often happens, was not willing to make a
change, so I suggested a change in doctors.
By the second free counseling session the patient had decided to
stay on the antidepressant and responded to suggestions offered by Trish and I
about how she might “dare” to interact more in the community. You see, we have
gone back to the Stone Age in some circles to a state of affairs where women
are property and not to leave the house, or boyfriends and husbands might hurt
them. The police? No one seems inclined to call them, for some reason, and this
lady did not even want to consult with a lawyer about a divorce.
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