(Englanniksi oli sujuvinta tarinoida. Jostain syystä. )
I'm gonna have to tell you all about this psychiatrist I had the misfortune to meet last year. I've been going to different doctors and mental health services for a couple of years now and the last place I was directed to go to was this psychiatric polyclinic. Like the kinda place where harder and long-lasting mental illnesses are supposed to be treated with a super professional team of specialists or smth. Such as the psychiatrist and a psychologist that were appointed to me.
So I go for a first meeting with both of them at the same time for an evaluation. My first time to one so I've no clue of how it's supposed to go or be like. (Always avoided that whole mess of getting treatment simply out of fear of losing control over my life + trust issues blah blah.) I was pretty nervous but somewhat hopeful that these are people that are good at what they do right? So I don't take my intuition very seriously right at first but now that i think of it, it makes my blood boil. First of all, this man, gives this fake smile -vibe, cold tone and just feels super inconsiderate. The whole conversation he was leading made me feel anxious and.. like I'm unintelligent? His approach and interviewing was straghtforward and fast paced. He blurted all my info and backstory from a computer like yada yada and went onto fishing out my then-current life situation. He'd ask a question and because I'd have to think about the answer for a bit, I did it out loud so I wouldn't just sit there quiet and blank faced. And the man shut me completely down. He plain and clear demanded the correct answer without giving any second of pondering. (I had to give times of days when I do this or that.) Bear in mind I don't do well in new social situations, am VERY shy and awkward and sensitive to a point so what I felt was only this.. disbelief partly and also some sort of sting of hurt. Like ... what? Is this how (very very very fragile mental health) patients are supposed to be treated? Bossed around insensitively.
Then this psychiatrist concludes from the interview a very simplistic plan of treatment and medication for my physical well-being such as sleep problems and anxiety. I think to myself, well okay, that's been known to help some people but is still pretty straightforward thinking and much from a theoretical perspective. To fix only my sleeping schedule. Like there should definitely be more to this than that. Um but okay, maybe if this doesn't work we'll all ponder over the best options after that. You should know, I have read aaaall and everything about my mental health condition (mainly depression) and stories to last for days and weeks and months of other peoples struggles so I'm not the tiniest bit uninformed on this whole subject.
Anyways, the about two(I think?) meetings go pretty much the same. Schedule schedule schedule, wow look at that progress we are making. All the while my anxieties keep rising and making me feel more and more unbearable. This happens in about the span of a couple of months and I try, oh how I try. Both to keep my feelings in check (like my entire life resulting in not getting treatment) but also to hold onto the sleeping system of "Don't watch tv or other devices too late in the evening, this has science proved to be bad for your sleep." (Uhh.... I know?? Oh yeah, definitely, that's the whole problem right there, right right. Tv, very bad. How very logical and smart! The only obstacle.)
When even getting up from the bed is hard, you can't always even hold onto a very basic day rhythm and have to give yourself the time and space to do things in your own pace. I've read thousands of self-care tips better than this man gave me as a professional treatment plan with meds sprinkled on top. You just can't rush a depressed person out of their comfort zone in a COUPLE OF MONTHS of sleep scheduling especially when their depression has been going on for a long (long looong) time (most of my life in cycles).. Just.. The more you think about it, this is exactly aaall of those inconsiderate and proved to be ineffective unsolicited advices from strangers who don't know better and make things worse. Don't watch TV too much in the evening and your sleeping will go so smoothly and basically fix everything. Pssh.
Then the last meeting I was alone with the horrible man and already knew that I hated him (just not exactly how deeply yet, this meeting was going to be the worst experience of them all) but I managed to assure myself that I could tell him the truth that this isn't working. He's a ~professional~, he should know from one word to listen to a patient and then make changes and know from previous knowledge how to go forward.
You all. I feel like crying. I managed to keep myself together then but now, it makes me beyond hurt and angry. Even
if I haven't been much of a crier lately and have been able keep my
emotions in a neat package (which isn't probably always healthy). This man who has not let me have much of a word in conversations before, because of being so fast and efficient had the audacity to ask why am I so quiet in the very first meeting. And now? When I try to put all the anxiety and hardships into words (Speaking is a skill, always remember that, it is difficult and nervewrecking to stutter any type of emotions into understandable form, but boy oh boy do I have news for you. YOU as a PROFESSIONAL are supposed to know that and LISTEN very carefully so as not to TURN YOUR PATIENTS AWAY.) they are completely ingnored. Completely and with great condescension with his superior smart guy mentality, gives me his right answer to the situation which is to try harder. And lastly says "Do you have an alaaarm clock??? :))) Do you know how to use an alaaarm clock???? :)))" ...With that smile and the sound of voice with which you speak to a child. Even when I was getting up after a short exhange of whatever, I don't remember what we(he) talked about, he still STILL tried to say to me "Really, it isn't that hard." And I rushed out out out out.
I never returned. Life went more to shit. I have many months of rent unpaid because I've again been only trusting me myself and I and been running from this government official to that doctor who have all said "Oh, you actually have to apply for this and this aid/assistance money/whatever." And after all those months, a lot of patience and support from my family, I've only just recently started to get a better grip over my mental state and have energy to even do more stuff. And actually enjoy it. But it's all still so fragile, I'm so on the edge that it could all turn worse again.
At one point he also had the audacity to tell me to not bother to write another appointment or some other note down in my cellphone cuz he was printing it on a paper for me like?????????????????????? Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up, your pieces of paper are going to be swallowed by the mountain of paper I have at home. Dont you DARE to assume all of us do things the way you do. Don't you DARE to control and nitpick my every move and word. Ugh.
But I know to listen to my feelings very carefully now and pull back from another fiasco like that if I get even a hint of it. I can't help but feel like losing at least some trust to the system, can't shake the feeling off that I'm going to be treated horribly and not listened to. The psychologist, (remember, the other professional appointed to me) as nice and considerate as he was, doesn't save the experience for me.
I'm happy I've got that much enough of life experience that I can tell all the little details that make the whole picture, otherwise I would have just tried to be a good girl and not think much of it later. Like really properly think it through. I swear if I had the same experience as a teenager or say, even a couple of years ago, that shit could have done so much more damage and even isolate me completely.
So yeah. Thus concludes the miserable story of my latest misfortune.
