torture

I saw the psychiatrist this evening and it was so, so horrible. I was doing a pretty good job of not thinking about it all day or trying to convince myself it'd be okay, but it was much worse than any other appointment. He started by asking why I was there, which freaked me out right away because the therapist yesterday said she was going to make sure she talked to him before my appointment to fill him in. I didn't know what to say and he was trying to be all friendly and jovial as if I could just talk. He asked a bunch of medical history questions that were easier to answer, except I couldn't talk loud enough and he kept making me repeat things and actually say yes/no instead of nodding/shaking my head.
It kept getting worse, too. He had the emails I'd sent to the therapist there (I told her it was okay to show him) and he read them out loud while I was sitting there. The only way I can send the emails is by dissociating from what I've written, so it was torture to have to listen to him reading bits and asking if what I wrote was right.
Then, he dictated his report over the phone, in front of me, and kept starting sentences and wanting me to finish them as he talked. He made me spell the name of my hometown (was he just making me talk for the sake of it? It's not that hard to spell, or maybe it is if you pronounce it right. He did get it wrong, but I couldn't correct him). I had to sit there and listen while he described how I looked and acted during the appointment.
I felt like I couldn't answer his questions properly. I still don't know the answer to how long I've been feeling like this. I can remember feeling this miserable at times going back to primary school, but I don't know when it started counting as depression. And questions about whether I have any enjoyment of things now are hard. I can forget how miserable I am sometimes, so does that mean I'm not always depressed? How often is "most of the time" or "some of the time" anyway?
He gave me a new prescription for effexor. I'm not sure if I'm meant to keep taking the ritalin, though... I guess I should've asked, but I didn't think of it and I just wanted to get out of there. He asked if I wanted to follow up with the nurse or him and I didn't know and couldn't make a decision, so now I have to go back and see him next week. Why could I not have said I wanted to see the nurse? What is wrong with me?
Then he made me go out to the front desk to make the new appointment, instead of doing it himself like the others do. He started joking with the receptionist while I had to wait there, where other people waiting could see me. I'd been crying the whole time, so that was completely obvious. The receptionist tried to be nice and asked if I wanted to go wash my face, but it was just extra embarrassing.
I felt like such a freak the whole time. I did have to go and hide in the bathroom for a while before I could calm down enough to leave the building, and then I frickin' ran into the psychiatrist on the way out. I think I made him stay late, so I felt bad about that.
I feel bad for thinking it was so traumatic too, because I'm sure he's a nice guy and he was just trying to be friendly and reassuring and all the things I kept saying he "made" me do, shouldn't be a big deal. It really felt so horrible to sit through, though. My eyes are sore from crying and my lips hurt from biting them to keep from sobbing out loud. I was feeling a little better earlier today, but now I feel worse again. I guess he confirmed that I have a serious problem, but now I just feel bad because it feels like I'm even more defective, not like it's just some illness that needs to be treated.