Long story....in 2000 I began bleeding very, very heavily because of menopause. I got so anemic that I was choosing my fast food places by the quality of the ice. Now the symptoms of anemia that severe can be; heart palpitations, fatigue, lack of interest in anything, mood swings, DEPRESSION....you know. all that good stuff.
They fixed the bleeding problem, but did NOT help the anemia. Instead, they sent me to a psychologist and psychiatrist who didn't pay attention to the severe blood loss/anemia, and started throwing the pharmacy at the symptoms. Heart palpitations? Why....panic attacks and atavan. Mood swings? Take anti depressants. Lots of them. Of course, all the pills had side effects that were managed by giving me more pills to conquer those side effects, and which produced more side effects.
In a year I was so medicated that I couldn't think. I couldn't remember a phone number long enough to dial it. I couldn't speak without stuttering. I couldn't walk straight....and yes, I was seriously thinking about suicide. One day I woke up and decided that I was either going to live, or die, but I'd do it without all the pills. I threw them all away. Cold turkey.
..................and no, I do NOT recommend that. Telling this story to my docs NOW make them all blanch.

EXCEPT of course that from then on I was stereotyped. I go in with 'shortness of breath?" Why, I'm having a panic attack, NOT asthma or pneumonia. I can't sleep? Why, I'm depressed...throw ambien at her. I soon learned that going to the doctor was an exercise in futility. No matter what was physically wrong with me, the first 'go to' was 'depression,' a pat on the head and an attempt at prescribing some anti-depressant or tranquilizer.
Five years ago my PC saw that I was getting anemic again. She already knew my opinion of people who just assumed that a middle aged fat widow is depressed, not 'sick.' So she sent me to a hematologist for more tests.
Turns out, I had Multiple Myeloma, bone marrow cancer. That's not curable. It's MANAGEABLE, as in, I could very easily have 15 to 20 very good years and I'm already 68. That's not exactly catastrophe, y'know? The treatments suck, but....(shrug) you deal with it. Bone marrow transplants, lots of chemo....it's just stuff.
The problem is now two fold for me: first, it turns out that heavy chemotherapy can cause peripheral neuropathy...and guess what some of the best treatment for that is?
You got it; anti-depressants.
Then of course, when one is terminally ill, one can GET depressed, and one can need some help coping.
When I get the atavan for nausea, or the anti-depressant for PN, the stereotype is RIGHT BACK. I could be wearing a huge red sign on my forehead: SHE'S DYING OF CANCER AND TAKING THIS STUFF FOR SOMETHING ELSE!" the reaction is, again....she's not right in the head, she's depressed, we don't have to look any further to see what the problem is. Just throw a pill at the problem and she'll go away.
I don't dare go ask for help with depression caused by cancer, because....that's all anybody sees; It stops at 'depression,' and 'they' don't go further to see why I should BE depressed. I'm being treated for the wrong thing. Again.
When a pharmacist gives me the instructions for taking atavan or whatever, those instructions are for depression and anxiety, NOT peripheral neuropathy and nausea.
there was an old joke that I'm not sure is all that funny any more; the head stone that reads "I TOLD YOU I WAS SICK!"
I AM frustrated....and what is more frustrating than anything is that I know that my cancer IS causing some depression, I DO need help....and I don't dare go ask for any because the CAUSE will be ignored. Oh, she is depressed, we don't have to worry about anything else....
Sorry for the rant, but I'm so tired of this.
I'm especially tired because depression as a disease on its own is VERY real and very serious. It's NOT a 'catchall' category that doctors can throw people (mostly women) into when they don't have time to investigate further.
But it's being treated that way.