First off, I'm so sorry to hear that you're going through such a tumultuous time with your mental health. I suffer from extreme depression and anxiety often, as a result of what seems to be childhood trauma. Even after 9th grade, from 2001 to now, I still haven't figured everything out. The last time I saw a therapist was back in 2003, I believe -- my therapist could no longer see me at that point because I was 18, and he was only assigned to help teens under 18 years old. My psychiatrist later retired and assigned me to a new one, but by that time I was already in my first job and could no longer be on my parents' healthcare plan.
After I quit my second job due to a mental breakdown, my mom helped me secure Social Security Disability Benefits (SSDI) to help me maintain a stable lifestyle. We also were referred to an agency in our county that specializes in mental health treatment and other services for the physically and intellectually disabled -- the same type of people I serve at my job. I was assigned a psychiatrist and a case manager who would provide therapy. As you know, over the following ten years I was treated horribly; the case manager was extremely verbally, emotionally, and psychologically abusive. Since I was already in poor shape mentally, I couldn't find the strength to hold him to account. A friend of mine reported him without my consent because he was infuriated about my experience. To this day, that case manager holds a grudge against me for that. In 2019, he pretty much made it clear that all of the overbearing and venomous things my father and others said about me were true, and that he agreed that I was, in his words, "a whiny little bitch." I remember crying in my room one day out of the blue. I had no hope left, and I just wanted to disappear. My mom heard my cries, came to my room, and hugged me tight, assuring me that though I indeed have a mental illness, I'm still her son, and I'm loved. Fast forward to 2023, and with my dad at my side, I parted ways with the case manager. He tried to frame the whole debacle of this "partnership" on me, but Dad wasn't having it, and the case manager's supervisor also reprimanded him. I have a new case manager now; she's FAR more professional and patient, very different from the drill sergeant my first one was. But there are still some problems, namely in communication. In fact, a series of blunders on their end could cost me my current job, or at the very least I'll face some kind of disciplinary action, and my standing with the agency could be forever smeared. Imagine that; so far I've been revered as one of the hardest-working people at the agency, I've developed a deep friendship with all of our clients, and I was even been featured on the agency's website within four months of working there back in 2022.
Medication has been a headache, too. So far there's been so much switching of medications to find the right balance for my condition. And with every switch, I developed unwanted side effects; right now, I'm a little embarrassed to say that the current side effects right now are tardive dyskinesia (my jaw sometimes aches and my mouth sometimes acts on its own, i.e., tongue can't stop sticking to the roof of my mouth), and excessive sweating (right now, I have to wear two black t-shirts at work due to always feeling overheated, even in cold weather; unfortunately, the black on the t-shirts doesn't hide the soaked areas as I'm always sweating at work, even while just sitting down during our clients' classes). The fact that my psychiatry appointments are monthly is one thing, but the following lack of communication until only recently has been nothing short of a headache. It's really disheartening to be told "you are not alone" when the people responsible for helping you through a crisis can't stay in touch and tell you things after the fact, leaving YOU to pick up the pieces AND having to stay on their case so they don't forget about you. It's been extremely frustrating, but there's nothing else I can afford at the moment.
I won't be a Pollyanna and say "just think positive"; many people I know have been fed that "advice", myself included, feel like we're not being fully understood and are just disrupting everyone else's day. But I'm glad you're taking the first steps toward getting the help you need -- the help you DESERVE. It took a lot of courage for me to do that back in 2001, and though I've barely made any progress and was a victim of callous racial and mental stigmatization last September, I'm grateful that I at least was able to admit to myself that yes, I'm NOT okay, and that I am entitled to assistance to get me healed up and to live the best life I can. It's not a perfect solution, but it IS better than throwing in the towel and letting my life be lived for me.
I hope that you get the help you need, that you DESERVE, so you can reach a place of peace. You ARE entitled to that, don't let anyone tell you otherwise.
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2024-02-14 05:18 am (UTC)First off, I'm so sorry to hear that you're going through such a tumultuous time with your mental health. I suffer from extreme depression and anxiety often, as a result of what seems to be childhood trauma. Even after 9th grade, from 2001 to now, I still haven't figured everything out. The last time I saw a therapist was back in 2003, I believe -- my therapist could no longer see me at that point because I was 18, and he was only assigned to help teens under 18 years old. My psychiatrist later retired and assigned me to a new one, but by that time I was already in my first job and could no longer be on my parents' healthcare plan.
After I quit my second job due to a mental breakdown, my mom helped me secure Social Security Disability Benefits (SSDI) to help me maintain a stable lifestyle. We also were referred to an agency in our county that specializes in mental health treatment and other services for the physically and intellectually disabled -- the same type of people I serve at my job. I was assigned a psychiatrist and a case manager who would provide therapy. As you know, over the following ten years I was treated horribly; the case manager was extremely verbally, emotionally, and psychologically abusive. Since I was already in poor shape mentally, I couldn't find the strength to hold him to account. A friend of mine reported him without my consent because he was infuriated about my experience. To this day, that case manager holds a grudge against me for that. In 2019, he pretty much made it clear that all of the overbearing and venomous things my father and others said about me were true, and that he agreed that I was, in his words, "a whiny little bitch." I remember crying in my room one day out of the blue. I had no hope left, and I just wanted to disappear. My mom heard my cries, came to my room, and hugged me tight, assuring me that though I indeed have a mental illness, I'm still her son, and I'm loved. Fast forward to 2023, and with my dad at my side, I parted ways with the case manager. He tried to frame the whole debacle of this "partnership" on me, but Dad wasn't having it, and the case manager's supervisor also reprimanded him. I have a new case manager now; she's FAR more professional and patient, very different from the drill sergeant my first one was. But there are still some problems, namely in communication. In fact, a series of blunders on their end could cost me my current job, or at the very least I'll face some kind of disciplinary action, and my standing with the agency could be forever smeared. Imagine that; so far I've been revered as one of the hardest-working people at the agency, I've developed a deep friendship with all of our clients, and I was even been featured on the agency's website within four months of working there back in 2022.
Medication has been a headache, too. So far there's been so much switching of medications to find the right balance for my condition. And with every switch, I developed unwanted side effects; right now, I'm a little embarrassed to say that the current side effects right now are tardive dyskinesia (my jaw sometimes aches and my mouth sometimes acts on its own, i.e., tongue can't stop sticking to the roof of my mouth), and excessive sweating (right now, I have to wear two black t-shirts at work due to always feeling overheated, even in cold weather; unfortunately, the black on the t-shirts doesn't hide the soaked areas as I'm always sweating at work, even while just sitting down during our clients' classes). The fact that my psychiatry appointments are monthly is one thing, but the following lack of communication until only recently has been nothing short of a headache. It's really disheartening to be told "you are not alone" when the people responsible for helping you through a crisis can't stay in touch and tell you things after the fact, leaving YOU to pick up the pieces AND having to stay on their case so they don't forget about you. It's been extremely frustrating, but there's nothing else I can afford at the moment.
I won't be a Pollyanna and say "just think positive"; many people I know have been fed that "advice", myself included, feel like we're not being fully understood and are just disrupting everyone else's day. But I'm glad you're taking the first steps toward getting the help you need -- the help you DESERVE. It took a lot of courage for me to do that back in 2001, and though I've barely made any progress and was a victim of callous racial and mental stigmatization last September, I'm grateful that I at least was able to admit to myself that yes, I'm NOT okay, and that I am entitled to assistance to get me healed up and to live the best life I can. It's not a perfect solution, but it IS better than throwing in the towel and letting my life be lived for me.
I hope that you get the help you need, that you DESERVE, so you can reach a place of peace. You ARE entitled to that, don't let anyone tell you otherwise.