Wednesday, September 3, 2014

Hurry up and wait.

The world is not very kind to mental health.
When I was 15 I was inpatient at a mental health facility for 6 weeks. Insurance covered an emense portion of it but from there on out I was put on a mental health hold (to not be insured) for 10 years.

Ten YEARS.
Even after getting my own health insurance through an employer in my 20's I was denied coverage of mental health because of my prior treatment. I paid for my therapy sessions out of pocket on a sliding scale and sometimes just went to the free clinic to see a doctor who hardly seemed to care much about the people she saw. She wrote my prescription wrong every time.

"You gave me a script for 50mg..."
Yes.
"I take 5mg 2x daily."
Oh. Let me change that.

In my many years of seeking professional help for my PTSD I learned to be my own advocate. I learned that just because someone has your illness listed as their area of expertise, doesn't mean they know enough to help you.

I've been trying for nearly 2 months to get help for my PPA/OCD. My OB and my family physician both put in a referral to the mental health facility that works with their clinic. They both said "wait for a call from them". So I waited. And waited.
And I eventually realized that a place that didn't care to call wasn't really a place I would want to be. So instead asked for some resources/help from a local support group I had been graciously accepted into. They were amazing and gave me a ton of leads. I started to call and started to get some of the same, non-urgent answers...
...Not taking new patients.
...We will call you back in a week or two to get your info.
...We don't have providers who take your insurance.
...You called the wrong number, you're looking for XXX-XXXX.
...Leave a message and intake will call you back.
...Sorry, we can't help you.

Finally one person called back and I could barely understand her but it seemed as though she was a partner clinic of the one who I was originally referred to. She could see that referral and told me to call them instead. So I did last week. I told the lady who answered about how I was told to wait for their call.

"Oh, yeah. We don't call people."
I was told you would call me... by both doctors...
"I know, but we figure if people really actually want or need the help they will eventually reach out to us. We prefer that so we aren't calling people who really don't even want the help and then don't show up to appointments."
Wonderful.
"Are you on any medications?"
Yes.
"For the postpartum?"
Yes.
"Is it helping?"
I don't know?
It might be...
I think it is?
I think I feel a little better.
"Ok..."
I can leave my house to go for a walk by myself.
Wow, could I sound any more pathetic?! I shut my eyes and furrow my brow. I should just shut up.
"Any other medications? For other reasons?"
Yes, for PTSD.
"What caused your PTSD?"

Ok, now seriously.
Can it be in the questionnaire training manual or maybe can you just take two damn seconds to think of WHAT you just asked me? Post traumatic stress disorder is from having to unwillingly relive traumatic events through flashbacks and nightmares. I spend most of my day warding off those thoughts. So hey, why don't you ASK me to TELL you. To PURPOSELY remember.

I want to be rude and swear at her for her stupidity but I quickly make up a vague reason.
She will have someone from intake call me within 7 days to get further information and setup an appointment.

Hey - no rush, I'm not losing my mind or anything.

My day yesterday was one of my worst yet to date.
I was at my wits end for various reasons.
My daughter was having a few extra bouts of exploding from either end.
She was also not having any of this "put me down" business, despite the fact that I didn't have an extra set of hands for the night because my husband was busy.
And to top it off, it was the anniversary of the day that my grandmother went missing all those years ago. Something I was trying so very hard to completely forget for the time being since it's usually something that consumed me.
I don't have time to be consumed by other things. I have a child to worry about care for.

PTSD
PPA
PPOCD
I didn't have a nerve left, much less one to begin with. I debated, as I did any other day, going to the store with my daughter. I had an ongoing list, one that seemed to only grow and never lessen. I could spend hours telling myself how important it was that I go get these things or how much more I could get done if I had them... but I can never make it urgent enough to warrant leaving my house with my baby by myself. Not unless it was her that needed something and if she did, I could surely get it at the grocery store that was nearby quickly.

I need to go to the store.
I can do it.
I can go.
I can go.
I can maybe go tomorrow?
I don't need to go.
I can't go alone.
I'm not going.

It's not that I'm afraid to be alone with my baby. I'm not.
It's my thoughts that I'm afraid of.
If someone is with me, they distract me.
But instead, I can't even bring myself to leave the house unless I have to go to work.

It's evening and my daughter continues to scream and I do all that I can in order to finish the taco meat and stick it in a container because there is only one thing that I can do that keeps her quiet and that is take a walk. I could continue to hold her on my hip but my anxiety is through the roof and I just need a second to myself. If I set her down she screams so hard she starts to cough and gag and then puke. Nothing is wrong, she just wants me. I want her too, but I just want a minute.

I just need to figure out how to breathe again.

I put her in her stroller and she screams as I buckle her in. I run in to grab a burp rag and bib and her zip up because the sun has set and it has cooled off considerably. I'm always obsessively checking her to see if she's too hot or cold.
I'm halfway down the block before I realize that I have no idea what I look like. Well, I have some idea... I'm quick approaching a group of ladies who are standing in a driveway and all look like they were at a modeling shoot earlier in the day. One is chasing a toddler, although I'm certain it's not hers. I'm pretty sure he belongs to the one person who is standing on the stoop in capri yoga pants and a tshirt. I'm wearing a tshirt from softball... the year I turned 21, a pair of yoga pants that may or may not be see through in the underwear region and I think my hair might be in what would be considered a pony tail... which is better than them knowing that I didn't bother to dry or straighten it when I got out of the shower this morning. I didn't have time.
I never have time.

My steps are hurried as I try to get out of their line of sight. I see them all trying to catch a glimpse and it's most likely because of my arm of tattoos. It tends to be a reason for gawking. I can feel their judgement.

When we get to the end of the block I put on the brakes on the stroller and touch my daughters arms. They feel cold and I'm a bit chilled myself. I should put on her jacket. I unbuckle her and she starts to scream and cry. She doesn't want to be stopped. She thinks the ride is over. She starts to squirm and rock out of my grasp in protest and I try to hurriedly put on her jacket. She leans forward and hits her head on the tray of her stroller. Now she's crying tears of pain. I quickly scoop her up and cuddle her and kiss her head and coo into her ear.
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry.
I'm failing.
People probably hear us and think I'm a horrible mom.

I buckle her back in and we proceed our walk.
Walking up hills gives me comfort. They make my entire body burn and that feels better than feeling like I needed to jump out of my own skin.
It's starting to get dark now but I opt for one more block.
I need more time. I'm almost better.
A car rolls by, window down - a man is in the drivers seat.

What if he's going to abduct me?
What if he takes me and my baby?
What if he only takes ME?
What if she's out here all alone?!
What if she's out here all alone and crying and no one hears her?
What if when they finally do hear her, they don't know where she belongs or who she belongs to?
What if she feels abandoned?!

My heart breaks and my steps become faster and faster.
I'm now in a panic.
I can't let that happen.
It suddenly seems very likely to happen.
At any time.
What was I thinking, I can't go on walks alone!
What if something happened?

Are you feeling better?
Yes.
How do you know?
I can go for a walk outside by myself.