(Or: At Home – Day Sixty-Three)
Today has been one hell of a day.
My care co-ordinator called. The psychiatrist won’t review my case regarding Tier 4 care. And won’t see me until September. The complex needs team might get back to me at some point in the next ‘few weeks’. And there will then be a waiting list. So I’m not going to be seeing anybody for any form of therapeutic care for another months. At least.
I hand the phone to my partner, because I am holding back a complete breakdown there and then.
My partner and I are more or less threatened that, if I do not manage my care myself, there would be serious repercussions for my ongoing mental health care.
A lot of things then happen very quickly. I had to call ‘Mind’ for advice. I threatened sitting in the local psych hospital, or indeed my local A&E, until somebody saw me. Things got unpleasant.
HOWEVER: I have now got my partner officially put on my records as my advocate going forward, because it’s causing me extreme emotional distress to try and cope with my own care plan. I sent an absolute HOWLER of an email, which should have scared them shitless. I also have an appointment for next Wednesday, which is just hilarious – if you’re insistent enough, appointments MAGICALLY appear…
I cannot believe how impossible it is. I am constantly, CONSTANTLY battling the NHS, and I don’t have the energy for it. Not when I’m also trying very, very hard to simply survive with extremely serious mental health problems…
Anyway. I also had an incredibly helpful conversation with my partner last night. We’ve discussed all of the current pressing issues, and formed a lot of new ways to try and help get through things as they are. It’s overwhelmingly positive, and I do feel so lucky to have her – even when things are at their worst, I never stop loving her. Sometimes I feel like all of this is too hard to see the other side of, but she never fails to surprise me with her patience, and her faith.
I just wish I wasn’t so fucking tired.