On Thursday, at the B-WELL drop in, there was a joke made, after I had said some news – well more of an update on my medical journey, that I would not be going the workshop on Monday.
It all came about because of my tone and the usual answer to “how are you?”, we are not allowed to say fine because that stands for…
- N…Not being
So I go with “OK”, I can’t even be bothered with the lie of ‘I’m.
So the news…
I have had yet another referral for therapy rejected without so much as saying hello, this makes six or seven times now – drugs – they are thrown at me, but therapy…Pft!
And I am not expressing any emotion, I may have had a little rant with the my-medical-experience poem/prose I wrote, but other than that one does not know what one feels – except numb.
If I go to the doctor with this feeling – it’s the depression – and it is back to the meds.
But what else am I supposed to feel? Any emotion that has a negative connotation to it will be medically suppressed. So suppression becomes a self defence so you do not get placed on more medication that could strip away the person within. It becomes automatic.
The psychologist I spoke to (that had to deliver the months old news), a young lady still in training, was very empathetic, and full of belief in the system. All to often the empathy is the first thing to be beaten out of them from the doors closing as they try to get a patient treated – other than medication.
I sincerely hope that it never happens to her, we need more like her, is all I left that room thinking.
How sad is that?