Betty Blue has had challenging life. OK, an extremely challenging life. At 48 years of age, she has suffered through a divorce and is living with a man who likes beer. Unfortunately, he is an ugly drunk who also likes to abuse and belittle her starting about Budweiser number 4, but he hasn’t actually hit her for a couple of months now. Betty’s 20 year old son recently emptied her saving account to finance an extended cocaine expedition, but that was before he was sent to prison for assault and battery during a dispute with his girl friends brother.
Working full time in a factory that manufactures automotive mirrors, Betty stands on a concrete floor and stamps metal parts for a supervisor that is not been satisfied with anything since 1987.
Last month, betty succumbed to her doctor’s insistence that she get a pap smear. Her doctor was had just been visited by a pharmaceutical representative hawking the latest antidepressant and she notices that Betty has a very flat affect. That’s medical talk for looking like you lost your last friend. This isn’t strictly accurate, because Betty doesn’t really have a close friend to lose. The doctor’s questioning reveals that Betty feels guilty about her divorce and guilty about living with her boyfriend. She no longer enjoys sex, going to the movies or the rare party. Things that used to be very important to her. She has lost 10 pounds in the last six months without needing to or trying to (Some readers may be jealous. Don’t be.)
In the allotted 15 minutes for her visit that already included a pap smear, Betty;s doctor doesn’t have the luxury of exploring Betty’s problems or helping her with coping mechanisms. So she prescribes an SSRI.. No that doesn’t stand for Surely Solves Random Irritations. It stand for Selective Serotonin Reuptake Inhibitor.