Monday, June 28, 2010
Your true colours are beautiful, like a rainbow.
Last week, I had a really horrible appointment with a psychiatrist. He dismissed a lot of my concerns and in general made me feel completely belittled. It was very upsetting, and I did my usual 'bottle it up, pretend it didn't happen' thing. It has been playing on my mind all week though.
I'm not sure if I've written a blog about the treatment of mental illness in Ireland before, but it is diabolical. The waiting lists are huge, and when (or if) you ever do manage to get an appointment, the likelihood of being brushed aside, written off, is immense. It's so easy to get lost in the system. You just become a number, another statistic.
It's like screaming at the top of your lungs when you're alone. It makes a sound, but no one hears it or feels the effects except for you. I understand why suicide rates are so high. Sometimes I really do think it'd be so much easier to disappear, to not exist anymore. In this country, if you're unfortunate enough to suffer from a mental illness, not only do you have to fight it, you also have to fight for help and for recognition, for validation and for acceptance.
I have no idea if I'm ever gonna be happy. I don't know if there's gonna be a time when I can sleep unaided. I'm not sure if I'll learn how to cope with anxiety in ways that aren't self destructive. I'm okay now though, and while ideally that isn't enough, at the moment, that's all there is.