"We aren't accepting new insurance patients," she said cheerfully. Stunned, I asked, "Do you think any openings will come up for insurance patients any time soon?" "No, ma'am," she replied, "we may not be taking new insurance patients for the next 12 months.
This is the conversation I have had with multiple psychiatry clinics in our town. I can really only muscle through one of these calls every few days because they just leave me feeling defeated and hopeless. I finally scheduled an intake appointment with the only therapy center listed as covered on my insurance's website. Even they had a two week wait for an intake appointment, and I could not schedule with their prescribing Nurse Practitioner (who sees patients via video chat) until after the intake confirmed that I do, in fact, need to see her. That appointment was set for another four weeks out.
Mental healthcare is exhaustingly impossible to access, especially for someone who is already mentally depleted. The whole reason I'm calling these people is that I'm not functioning well in my daily life. Simple daily tasks - taking a shower, eating a nutritious meal, taking my medications - are often difficult to complete. Making it through 45 minutes of holding and pressing 16 numbers to finally reach someone who says I need to call somewhere else, but they don't know where, is...well...maddening. I honestly was not sure I would be able to stick it out through the process just to get to the person who can prescribe something to help with the chemical imbalances in my brain.
In the meantime, I'm continuing to take the medications that are barely taking the edge off of my crippling anxiety and at least keeping me from acting on the impulses I sometimes have to run into a tree. (I am not suicidal, I seriously just want a break that no one will begrudge me, and some days, in my sick state, that break could come in the form of a hospital stay, and I would be good with that. I understand this makes no sense. This is one of the reasons I'm seeking treatment). In the meantime, I'm plodding along. "One foot in front of the other. 7 more hours until bed time." In the meantime, I'm desperately trying not to scar my children as I throw a tantrum like a small child when they won't listen, or take yet another nap while they watch a movie because I am just so tired from the energy required to act like a normal human. In the meantime, I'm just trying to make it to that appointment date knowing full well that things will not magically get better when I see this medical professional...knowing full well that I may get worse before I get better attempting to establish new medications. Yet, knowing that I will have made it to the next step somehow is comforting.
I have a playlist on my phone that tells me who God is and who He says that I am. I need that reminder multiple times a day. I cannot see my value right now. I cannot see my contributions as helpful or needed. I sometimes think that everyone I know would be better off without me. I know these things are not true. I just can't feel them. I know that I am loved by a good father who made sacrifices so that I could be in his holy presence. I know that I have purpose and that my kids and my husband need me. I know...really, I do. But knowing and internalizing and grasping with the heart, mind, and soul, are very different things. I need reminders of who God says I am because my heart is telling me lies, and, too often, it's easy to believe them and hard to discredit them.
Friends, this is the thick of the battle. This is the part that requires leaning on what I know and ignoring everything else. Ignoring my heart that is screaming that it will never get better, that no one can ever love me, that my children will be scarred for the rest of their lives and it's my fault, that my husband will eventually give up and leave. This is the part that requires claiming the promises I know. That Jesus walks with me. That Jesus loves me. That Jesus loves my children and placed them in my care even knowing my struggles. That Jesus brought my husband and me together and breathes life into our marriage even when it seems to be difficult. That Jesus is stronger than this.
Even. When. I. Am. Not.
Now. Mental illness has a way of thwarting what you know. I will read this tomorrow and think, "What? You don't know any of that." That's why it's important to have an objective understanding of what is and what is not true. Those bad days come. I know they will. I will lose on those days. I will get trapped in an emotional spiral. I will say things I do not mean to people I love, and I will hurt them. I will say things I do not mean to myself, and I will internalize those things, but a day will roll around like today when I can believe the things I know. And I will make it to the next step. And I will make it to the next step. And I will take a step back, but then I will make it to the next step. It is hard, and I am in the middle of it, but some days, "One foot in front of the other," is good enough.
Comments
Post a Comment