I was especially concerned about reader Ginny who wrote the following on the message board of my “When to Get Help” post:

How do you find a good doctor when you’re terrified of leaving the house? When the very thought of sitting in a waiting room makes you so anxious you become dizzy and ill? I had none of these problems until my doctor put me on a beta blocker that threw me into a major depression. I’ve weaned off the medication but the panic attacks and anxiety and agoraphobia are worsening. I know I need help, for my sake and for my 5-year-old, but how do you get help when you can’t get outside?

And for reader Claudia, who wrote this on the same post:

Woke up nauseated, nervous, hands shaking. Took a shower and started crying and have been on and off since. I am once again on the verge of losing everything (again). It’s the middle of summer in Florida and I have no job and my son got fired from his and I don’t know how much more I can take. I’m 51 years old…when does it all end? I am so tired of living……….its so hard.

I e-mailed both of them to say that I was praying for them, and that I would ask Beyond Blue readers for advice on how to move forward. They both wrote back with a progress report that delighted me because it reminded me of the pink hibiscuses buried in the camouflage that I described in my relapse post.
Ginny wrote this:

I did make it out of the house today and even made a small shopping trip to the grocery store (sweating and shaking and on the verge of panic and/or tears the entire time, but nonetheless, I did it. I’m exhausted but proud of myself, too.) I am setting small goals for myself every day this week. Tomorrow I want to take my very sweet, patient and empathetic son to his karate class, which he has not been able to attend for a month. I really feel I need to push myself a little bit instead of hiding in the house, but I still can’t fathom the idea of driving to a doctor’s office and sitting in the waiting room and everything else that entails. I feel shaky just thinking about it. I’m considering an online therapist to help get me past this (or at least how to deal with it more effectively) so I can seek the help I need locally.

And then a day later, she reported even more progress:

I found an excellent site last night that allows a potential client to review a personal and professional profile of the available therapists. I thought the cost was comparable to other forms of therapy. A 30-minute email session is $30 (I know I’ve spent that amount on self-help books before). A telephone or chat session is $90 per hour. I have signed up with what appears to be an excellent therapist. My next step is to fill out a rather comprehensive history form and then schedule time with him.

And Claudia was headed towards the pink hibiscuses, as well. She wrote this a few days after her first comment:

I am feeling much better today. I take anti-depressants and an occasional Xanax (like yesterday). God bless my son and cats as they recognize when the life goes out of my face . . . the cats sit in my lap or near me and trill when I cry and my son, he had me get out of the house and take a walk to the local park (two blocks) where I started picking up trash and putting it in the garbage. A woman and a young boy saw us and they started doing the same thing. At that moment the fog lifted and I felt ok again, as in not suicidal, not crying (for no apparent reason although I have plenty) and able to finish the day out by fixing grilled cheese (fave comfort food) and doing the dishes.