I’ve been battling with mental health problems for six years now. Problems?? Why do they label us the ones with problems? We are just like everyone else just a little more fragile. No problem. I was diagnosed with PTSD, depression, anxiety, anorexia nervosa and bulimia nervosa when I was just 12 years old after I watched my dad get beaten to death.
I received therapy from the child psychiatrist after being passed around to numerous different people because I was a difficult patient and found it hard to open up to certain people; after all, this wasn’t an easy subject to open up about. Their instant response to ‘help’ me was to put me on medication. One in the morning and one at night to make me remember how to smile again. But that wouldn’t stop me from feeling so alone and I was a kid; I didn’t want to be stuck on medication for the next few years. So I just continued going to my appointment, talking about anything apart from what I needed help with and pretended that everything was fine. Because: “I’m fine.”
When I hit the big 18, after a long struggle and numerous scary thoughts that I wouldn’t make it to this age, I was passed on to the adult mental health team. I’m sad to say they are no help. It took me four months to get an initial assessment although I was on the high-risk form and yet another four months on from that I am still waiting to get therapy, which they recommend to be EMDR (eye movement desensitisation and reprocessing) and CBT (Cognitive Behavioural Therapy). But can you guess what the fix is until then?? That’s right, antidepressants and a support worker. But the only thing that is actually helping me is my best friend, razor blade.
I am now at the point where I’ve given up with everything. Being told that if I don’t start eating they will have no choice but to section me, but they won’t do anything to help me beat my mental health difficulties. I am just left here like a fly on the wall or a dog strapped up unable to reach his bone just praying that I can get the help I need before my suicidal plan date. “I’m fine”; “Help me.”
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