Getting Help (Or, Not Getting Help)

therapy, getting help, getting help for mental illness, depression, anxiety, mental health blogger, this stuff is golden,

Consultant Psychiatrist: When was the last time you had thoughts of harming yourself?

Me: Yesterday.

CP: Have you made any plans to end your life?

Me: Nope.

CP: Do you think you would ever commit suicide?

Me: Probably not.

CP: Why is that?

Me: Guilt I guess.

CP: Can you expand on that?

Me: Because of having a daughter.

CP: How do you feel when you get anxious?

Me: My heart rate gets super fast, I feel breathless, I sometimes get stomach cramps, and my neck hurts.

CP: And when did you last experience these symptoms?

Me: Today, before coming to this appointment, ha.

CP: Why was that?

Me: I was panicking about getting here on time and leaving my daughter at home because I worry that something is going to go wrong.

CP: Are your parents still alive?

Me: Yep.

CP: How old is your father?

Me: Erm, he was born in 1961 so… 57?

CP: How old is your mother?

Me: 64.

CP: What does your father do?

Me: Ha, I dunno.

CP: Why don’t you know?

Me: I don’t talk to him.

CP: And why is that?

Me: Erm, because he’s just not a very nice person. It’s hard to describe.

CP: How was he not a nice person?

Me: Erm, I dunno how to say it really, erm, he was aggressive. Not physically, well, actually, a little bit, but mostly just mean. He had a lot of issues.

CP: And how long since you last spoke to your father?

Me: Erm, about 6 years?

CP: What does your mother do?

Me: She’s a manager at M&S.

CP: And how is your relationship with her?

Me: Good, we speak on the phone most days.

CP: Are your parents still together?

Me: Nope.

CP: How old were you when they separated?

Me: Erm, 17?

CP: Can you count down in sevens from one hundred for me please.

Me: Ha okay erm, 93… 86, 79, 72… erm 65…

CP: That’s fine, thank you.

CP: Where did you grow up?

Me: Hertfordshire.

CP: How was your childhood?

Me: Erm, fine?

CP: How did you find school?

Me: Primary school was good, secondary school was not good.

CP: Why was secondary school not good?

Me: Erm well I lost a lot of my primary school friends at the start, I became very lonely and at about 12 years old I was wishing that I was dead. That’s when my depression really started I think. Erm and then at about 15 I had BDD, and got like a couple of weeks of CBT for that… I did a lot of things for attention.

CP: What kind of things?

Me: I cut myself… ran away from home once, bunked off school a lot.

CP: Where and how did you cut yourself?

Me: On my leg with a blade from a razor. Just a few times.

CP: Have you harmed yourself since then?

Me: Nope.

CP: So I think the course of action should be an increase in your dosage from 100mg to 150mg, see how you are after four months, and then if there is still no change, up your dosage again to 200mg, and come back to review four months after that.

Me: Oh, okay.

CP: Any questions?

Me: Er, no.

4 Replies to “Getting Help (Or, Not Getting Help)”

  1. Do you have any universities or colleges nearby? Might be worth asking about sliding scale counselling costs… I loved this post even if the outcome wasn’t what you hoped.

    1. That’s a good idea. My GP actually said about a service called MindSpace (I think), who do offer counselling, but I am yet to hear back. In regard to this post, I was soooo disappointed because I assumed it was the beginning of some talking therapy.

  2. Wow, this is a very powerful and thought provoking piece Lauren. Love it.

    1. Thanks Matthew! I went into the appointment thinking I was about to start some talking therapy, so was very disappointed when I came out!

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