The title has nothing to do with this post, it’s just something I remember writing down in my dream.
Last night was awful. I was watching a show about an illusionist and I got a phone call. I recognised the number as that of my local mental health centre so I answered it sounding like complete crap because I am so stuffed up from allergies or maybe a cold. I am starting to think it is a cold. Anyway, I hadn’t heard from the mental health centre in quite some time and was a little hurt because they have been so supportive this year and suddenly that support backed off.
My caseworker asked how I had been and said they assumed I must have been OK because I didn’t contact them. I told her I didn’t contact them because I assumed they didn’t want to deal with me anymore. She told me that she had emailed my psychiatrist to tell her that they will probably close my file for now. Say what? I asked her to explain that and she said that because they are mostly crisis care and because I have a private psychiatrist and private health insurance, there isn’t much they can do for me anymore.
I started crying and shaking. I told her that is complete bullshit. I am so eloquent when I am upset. I said it’s not fair that I get denied support because I spend a big chunk of my disability allowance on private insurance in case I need to go back to hospital. I’m still poor. I still need help. In some ways I am more poor than others on disability because of the private insurance. I’ve been in public psych hospitals and my experiences have been pretty traumatising so I need the option of private cover. She agreed and understood where I was coming from. The system sucks. I know it’s not her fault, someone has sat her down, seen a little flag next to my name saying I have private insurance and told her to close my file. Community support my ass.
I’m deemed “too rich” for the public sector but I am too poor to get help elsewhere. The most affordable option for me is to see my psychiatrist and get drugged up. The government pays for most of my psychiatric appointments and I get as many as I want. My medication comes at a huge discount but actual therapy, actual work with an actual psychologist is barely covered by both the government and private insurance. It’s ridiculous. I think I have blogged about this before so I am sorry if I am repeating myself.
Back to the conversation. She could hear how upset I was and said they will always be there if I need them but I wont necessarily have her as my caseworker. I told her I definitely wont call them ever again. She said my psychiatrist can always refer me back to them and I said she wont. She will put me in a private hospital under her care. Psychiatry is a business, why would she refer me to someone else? Even if she did refer me back to them, what would the point be? They can’t offer me anything.
I had the TV on mute and I remember seeing lots of knives. I heard her say, “You’ll be OK”, but I think this was more to reassure herself of that.
What is OK anyway? Maybe I will die soon, maybe I wont. Maybe bad stuff will happen, maybe it wont but it terms of leading a happy and fulfilling life, I am not OK and I don’t know if I ever will be.
She told me that they’re not abandoning me, just closing the file. I told her that they never should have offered me support at all and that it does feel like abandonment. I said I got used to having the support and now it has been taken away from me because of my stupid private health insurance. She asked if I didn’t like the support I was given and I told her I really appreciated everything she did for me. She is a really nice and caring person. I will miss her. Not enough money goes into mental health, I understand they’re stretched and can’t support everyone.
Of course I couldn’t sleep after that. Firstly I called my mum and had a good cry over the phone. I know it hurts her to know I am upset but I was feeling really vulnerable and desperately wanted to S.H (I didn’t tell my mum that though). I had a huge headache (another reason I think this is more than just allergies) so I took some pain killers and listened to what was supposed to be a relaxation/hypnosis CD which puts you to sleep. It didn’t. I got so caught up in my thoughts that I had to pause and write them down.
Here is what I wrote:
Be angry at the system, not at those who work for it. Be angry at the bigger picture, not the situation. It’s OK to be sad, no one likes to feel abandoned. Appreciate what you had in a more critical time. Acknowledge the loss but don’t let it consume you. Cry. It’s not fair. They know it’s not fair. Maybe one day things will be different. Get it out of your head for now. Sleep is all you need to think about. Pack away the other thoughts into a container and put the lid on it. It can be opened tomorrow. There might not be a solution to this and while that makes you angry, sad and anxious, not everything can be solved. Things end so you can start a new beginning, even if you don’t want one. Be brave. Ask for help. Try new things. Be strong, not because you have to but because you can.
I still couldn’t sleep but eventually fatigue set in enough for me to get a few hours. That’s when I had the strange dream about writing “you showed me how to make soup and how to use an ice cream scoop.” It was written in a card for a teacher from high school who kept reminding us it was her birthday. She just wanted cards and presents! Greedy thing!