I didn’t sleep last night, maybe 3 or 4 hours at the most, tossing and turning and my mind racing ten to the dozen, fuelled with anxiety and racing thoughts. I was worrying about today, meeting yet another new CPN. I didn’t even know my old one was leaving, not a word, not a goodbye and no introduction to the new one taking her place.
Instead a letter arrived telling me she was leaving and in her place some man. Great a man, I don’t like men and I had only just begun to feel able to talk to the old one, so now I’m back at square one.
It took me hours this morning talking to my husband, chatting to Facebook friends and Twitter friends who gave me the support. I was a shaking wreck so asked a friend to come with me. Thankfully the surgery where I go, as I don’t want them in my house is a short walk away. Yet that short walk feels like walking down the green mile.
I arrived, struggled at reception and just handed over the appointment letter, I was shaking. I sat down and my throat was so dry, I got a plastic cup from the water dispenser and gulped it down. My poor friend is not used to seeing me so distraught. I saw the look of worry in her eyes as she made small talk to keep me occupied. I could not sit still so used the excuse to go to the toilet just to get up.
I sat no more than ten minutes when some women came and asked if I was Emma. I nodded.
She told me my CPN was not able to attend our appointment and he would phone me later this afternoon.
I felt the tears spring to my eyes
She explained he was having a bad day and these things happen
“Fucking Great” was my reply “I am having a bad day too”
She asked if I needed him to phone me today
I told her yes
I am at braking point and I have no professional support
I could go to the GP now and ask for an emergency appointment, but what can the GP do?
Yet again I have been failed by the mental health team, the support system that is meant to support me
The last time I saw anyone was about 12 weeks ago. No appointments came through. I have tried to phone my CPN on a few occasions to be told she is not available, no I do not want to leave a message; I want to speak to the women who knows what I am freaking out about. That is the very reason I have her number.
I am angry
I feel let down
I am frustrated that I had worked myself up to go and ask for the support I need right now and yet here I am sat here in my house, tears streaming down my face, my husband shouting what a fucking joke this is and my friend wanting to make a complaint.
I am lost again
Now what happens?
By the time I get another appointment I will be in a different mood and different world
I don’t want another appointment; I am too tired to fight the system
They let me down when I need them, every time
I was put under the services in November 2010 and I am no further forward
So now I sit and wait for him to phone me…