Counselling

After a year of pushing the NHS I finally had my first session of counselling today.

Well actually, I sat down & the counsellor told me that it was yet another assessment.

Great I thought. Not only have I had to spend four years battling with my mental health and pushing for a diagnoses. I now have to convince you that I’m fucked up enough to warrant your time.

If I miss a session I’m out.

If I’m late for two sessions I’m out.

If I don’t engage with it… you guessed it I’m out.

Bloody Nazi NHS bureaucracy.

I spent the next 40 minutes explaining how I feel right now (I have Bi-Polar two, so fucking angry, irritated & quite honestly like I want to punch you in the face, go home, get smashed & shop online).

Other than her noticing that ‘life is quite hard right now isn’t it’ I felt like I was a blemish on her otherwise perfect counselling day. I’m not asking for sympathy, but she wasn’t exactly kind.

I left feeling better for getting out how I’d acted this morning (shouting in the street at the fucking evil dog, whilst trying to not loose it with my two poor children), but she made me feel totally ashamed for it.

I already feel ashamed for my behaviour, I don’t need you judging me. What I’m here for and what I need is a little bit of help and support to figure out how to stop it.

I don’t need to be told that I’m sabotaging my life. I’m not, this bloody illness is.

This is why there’s such stigma around mental health. You can’t see it, so you can’t blame it for anything.

If I couldn’t walk because of a broken leg you wouldn’t tell me I was sabotaging the local barn dance. You’d probably get me a chair, pass me a drink & get me a pillow for my foot.

Mental health patient? It’s your fault. You are in control if your actions.

Then she told me that I need long term support & she’s not licensed to treat bi-polar. Do you think?!

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