The past few days have been filled with breakdowns and hospitals. I find myself desperately calling out for help, but it seems unless I threaten self harm, then no one is willing to help.
Listening to news commentators and politicians discuss the mental health system is painfully offensive. I’m in that broken system. I’m living it; and living it in an environment where it should be least problematic.
Certain protocols prevent me from speaking specifically to the 17 month journey of asking for help. There are things, I believe, meant to prevent me from calling out specific people and organizations.
All I want is to get better; to be better. My goals are specific, to learn to manage this overwhelming depression, ground myself when the anxiety takes hold, and receive a proper medication to manage this dangerous imbalance.
The system, however, doesn’t work. It forces people like me into a corner; forces us to consider self harm as an option, if only to underscore the serious nature of our request for help.
I’m drowning here. I’m in a system that does not work; one that can cost lives in its failure.
I’m angry, and I understand why this system protects itself from malpractice suits.