Can I fire my "health coach"?

My insurance company has started this health coaching program to try and encourage its members to make healthier choices.  Okay, sounds good in theory.  In practice, however, not so much.  My first experience with these folks was a call from them to get things started.  I would actually welcome this service if it meant that someone was assigned to check in with me that actually wanted to know what my issues and goals were, and to make suggestions and encourage me.  This...  is not like that.  Imagine a call-center drone with a Minnesota accent.

It turns out my insurance company provided them with some basic information about recent tests and/or medications ordered for me, with the result that they had two issues to discuss with me:  acid reflux and depression.  On that first phone call we spent about 15 minute going around and around about whether I was or wasn't "taking my medication" for my acid reflux.  I don't, but that's because he didn't prescribe any.  The only problem I have with reflux is that I drink entirely too much Dr. Pepper and lay flat on my back surfing the net every night after putting the kids to bed.  Reflux solution:  quit drinking so much soda and get off your fat ass already.  Done.  But no, we had to set up a "plan" for me to follow to ensure progress with this health issue.  Much eye rolling was done.  And gritting of teeth.

What was even more fun was the depression discussion.  She could see that I've been taking an SSRI for a while now.  She then proceeded to administer the depression short-form screening questions, the ones you use to determine whether you need to have outside help with your dark side.  Not surprisingly, I scored very well on that test.  There was a long silence, then she had to follow up with my personal favorite, the suicide forecast question.  Oh, lady, please.  After being reassured that I not only knew I was depressed but I was both taking medicine and seeking additional treatment for it, she decided to go off on a ten minute pep talk that largely consisted of suggesting I contact my local Welcome Wagon to help me settle in to a new town.  After explaining, in italicized tone of voice, that "new" didn't really describe me, as we've been living here for 3.5 years now, she petered out and ended the call.  Ugh.

So today as I was catching up on opening the mail, I came across the "resource materials" that this conversation netted me.  Acid reflux one was completely useless and devoid of any entertainment value; recycled.  Oh, but the depression one.  Hee hee.  That's another matter.  Headed "Stress Management," it offers the following suggestions on "Ways to lower your stress."  Here we go:


1. "Manage your time.  Schedule your commitments, and decide which are most important."
Where do I start??  What time, exactly, do I need to manage better?  The hour and fifteen minutes between waking and rolling out of the house?  The hour and a half between getting home and putting the kids to bed?  Probably you mean the time after that, the time when I'm so wiped out from commuting, working, and oh -- parenting -- that I pretty much want to sit on my ass and veg out (see paragraph two, above).  Or maybe my weekends, where I'm trying to do household chores, shop for groceries, and, well, there's that parenting thing again (pesky interesting, fun, challenging children)?  Yeah.  A planner is exactly what I need.  What I need is shorter/no commute and more money.  Will you send  me those two things in a handy little mailing?

2.  "Make healthy lifestyle choices.  Get plenty of rest."
Oops, sorry, I just snorted Dr. Pepper through my nose.  You're right about this one, you really are.  This is probably the one area of my life over which I have the easiest control.  But there's something about having only the time between when the children go to bed and my own bedtime to myself to do whatever I want that makes it hard for me to go to bed on time.  And I don't drink coffee.  So in the morning, it's more Dr. Pepper and whatever shiny, chocolaty thing I can get my hands on to get me through the day.  It's a vicious cycle.  I'm pretty sure that lumpiness on my ass cheeks is the bumps of Whoppers and peanut M&Ms floating just under the skin.  It is a good idea, though.  I'm trying.

3.  "Get support from your friends and family.  Ask for help."
Mmm hmm.  Yep, makes sense.  Oh, wait.  I do that all the time.  You know that great guy I'm married to?  The one who keeps our household afloat by making sure that shit gets done?  The one trying to get tenure?  That one?  Or maybe you wanted me to ask for help from my crazy family.  Right now, we're all working so hard at keeping our shit together at various skill levels that it feels a bit like trying to get help opening a jar from a room full of chimpanzees with butter on their hands.  Loud, noisy, confusing, buttery.  Nope.  Or maybe my friends?  That's a good suggestion, actually, because I have quite a few really supportive friends.  I'm lucky in that regard; I have more friends now than I ever have in my life.  Except here's the really crappy part about depression, or at least for me when I'm depressed:  I either can't or won't initiate contact with people.  It's about the very last thing I have the energy to do.  And if I do, I feel worse, because I feel like I'm pulling people into my viscous pool of pointless navel-gazing.  When you have social anxiety plus depression, this is like telling me I'll feel better if I pull out all my fingernails to use to make a lovely bracelet.

4.  "Change the way you think."
Oh.  I never thought of that.  Problem solved!  Who knew it was just that easy!  Seriously though, I know that cognitive therapy methods can do a world of good.  They've helped me a lot.  But some kinds of emotional crap needs bigger weapons than a worksheet and some daily affirmations.

5.  "Learn better ways to solve problems and communicate."
Again, yes, very helpful suggestion.  I'll add this to my things to do right now.  The list that is a mile long, that makes it so hard to make a choice about what to do next that I do nothing at all.  One more game of Picma...

6.  "Talk to an expert.  Stress can be too much to handle on your own."
Ah, we've finally gotten to one that feels like a good fit.  I'm glad to hear that this feeling of dust and ashes might be something I need to have outside perspective on.  Maybe I"m not thinking clearly and objectively!  Good idea!  I think if we've gotten this far, from talking with a clueless Minnesotan "coach," reading this handy health sheet, and having years of therapy and medication, it might be time to bring in an expert.  Yep.  That'll be $240 a month please.  Now there's a stress-reliever for you!

So when people ask me how I'm doing, or if I'm okay, I tend to lie or to downplay it.  I try to be funny or vague or flippant or evasive.  I don't want to talk about it.  Not really.  What is there left to say?