How often have you gone to some specialist because you needed help, only to be reduced to a questionnaire? If all it takes to diagnose someone or decide what support is needed is to fill out a form, why aren’t we all doing it on our own? The person asking the questions really doesn’t know if we are lying or even if we understand the question put to us and in that case, we might as well just fill out those things online on our own from now on. What’s the point if we are not treated with respect? What’s the point if we – the patients – become the problem?
The other day I had my first consultation with a new psychiatrist, and it was absolutely horrible. Once again, I felt reduced to a few random answers on a questionnaire and ended up feeling lost and misunderstood. Not only was the internet connection faulty and the sound horrible, but the man didn’t even let me finish my answers properly before continuing to the next. He also didn’t explain what was happening, didn’t say anything and just started asking me all these random questions. I thought it was odd and interrupted to ask what was going on, but only after having answered a few questions in a somewhat confused and dazed state.
He answered that I was there to be tested for autism and I should just answer the questions. I replied that I already had that diagnosis and that I was there to talk about what to do with my possible PTSD and ADHD, to which he replied that it didn’t matter, the questionnaire was basically the same – he was just getting to know me and my situation.
This is where I had my meltdown on the inside, I held back for as long as I could, but in the end when he started asking about my traumas and why I “would think I had PTSD” and “-if something had happened in my life to make me think so?” – then I couldn’t hold it in anymore and had my meltdown. I moved the camera away, because I was crying and shaking as I always do when I have a meltdown and he forced me to turn the camera back towards my face, which only shredded every last bit of self-control I had left.
The man had no respect for my situation, no respect for my repeated requests to stop with the questions and explain what was going on, no respect for the many times I had told him the meeting wasn’t what I had expected and that I was having a really hard time and couldn’t continue like we did – no respect at all.
He even went so far as to tell me that it would be very difficult to talk to me about my traumas and give me any help, because I was still so affected by them. This is literally what he told me.
I wasn’t crying because of my traumas, they have been with me a long time and even though I can occasionally shed a tear over it, they are mainly a source of late-night flashbacks accompanied by anxiety attacks.
No, this was a “normal” meltdown triggered within the first five minutes of our conversation and controlled until the moment I realised that I would never get help from someone like him. I told him over and over again what was happening in me and he just… ignored it and decided what I felt and thought on his own.
It was one of the worst experiences I have ever had with a psychiatrist in my entire life, and I never want to go back to someone like that. I don’t want to ask for help anymore.
Not because I don’t need help at all, because I don’t need the help those services can offer. One day, in the far away future, I hope that people will look back on this period in history and laugh at the mental health care systems and support available to people who are different – I suspect some may cry over the hopelessness of this system and everyone’s blind faith in it. In that future I pray that we have learned to treat everyone on this planet, and the planet itself, with compassion, love and care. Looking at the state of the world today, it is difficult to not feel naïve with such high hopes for our world.
What never fails to surprise me, even though I really should know better by now, is that people will always focus on whatever they feel or think I should get help with and never listen to what I actually ask for help with. Like this guy, Mr. Condescending, he simply didn’t listen to anything I was saying and continued to state completely unrelated facts as if they were somehow related. Not once did he try to understand what I was saying – he would ask a question, I would be confused about the meaning of the question and ask for clarification, he would repeat himself and I would try to give a satisfying answer. Then, he would get a different conclusion and when I tried to tell him it wasn’t what I meant, he would ignore me and move on to the next question and everything would repeat itself.
Now, I basically had a meltdown 5 min into the conversation, which I tried to explain (obviously he ignored me), but he still kept talking about how I was very affected by my traumas and even recommended breathing exercises for me – I didn’t need breathing exercises, the moment I ended the videocall I broke down, cried a few minutes and promised myself never to talk to him again and guess what? I felt perfectly fine after that and I have not had any anxiety or flashbacks at all. You know why? Because I know I have PTSD, but I have found a way to live with it and all in all, I am dealing with it and getting better.
My greatest challenge in this silly life is communication with others, but no matter how I try to explain this, no one ever gets it. They always want to help me “deal with my past” or something, when what I really need help with is dealing with people.
I am not saying that healing from trauma isn’t important, what I’m saying is that I want to live. I have talked to so many people about my past and you know what? It only makes me sad. What makes me happy isn’t constantly talking about all the bad things that happened to me in the past, no, what makes me happy is living the present moment. Of course, I am who I am because of my past, but I don’t think about all those bad things every day. I prefer to think about happier things, like today I was picking strawberries in my garden and listening to happy music. The sun was shining, but it didn’t hurt my eyes, it was only mildly irritating. I was so grateful to be able to spend a day in the sun picking strawberries. I didn’t think about the bad things, I was just happy. Yes, I was alone, but I no longer feel as lonely as I did when I was younger. I can appreciate the little things in life.
When I was younger, even if I had had a day like today, I wouldn’t have enjoyed it at all. I was so caught up in my own suffering that I was unable to enjoy the little things in life. In fact, I was even unable to see them. I held on to my pain like it was the only thing that kept me safe, but of course, my pain was what held me back. Forgiving others is important, but what I needed more than anything else was to forgive myself.
Many therapists have told me all kinds of different things over time, but this last one was the most awful therapist I have ever had. After our conversation I felt bad for weeks. I wasn’t even able to finish the post until now because I felt so damn awful about myself.
My point is, if you are lucky enough that you have found a therapist who listens to you and makes you feel better, then be grateful and do everything you can to get to a better place. If you are unlucky, like me, and have only found a therapist that makes you feel awful about yourself, someone who makes you think you are worthless and barely even human, then it is perfectly okay to move on to someone else.
Don’t get me wrong. I did a lot of hard work to get to where I am and it was all kinds of painful. I have been through hell and back, trust me. Healing isn’t easy, it’s terrible and painful and a struggle like no other in life – but, it will make you feel better.
I needed help when I was younger, but the help I got was anything but helpful. It hurt me more than anything. I took matters into my own hands and started working through my trauma on my own. All this time, I have been lucky to sometimes meet the right person at the right time and those few people have been able to support me when I needed it the most. I have been lucky, even though most of those people are no longer in my life. I feel like I don’t need to work through my traumas anymore, I need to learn how to live like the person I am right now – past traumas and freaky personality and all that. I am me and instead of re-living my past, I want to enjoy my present moment in the sun.
I am not someone who can be boxed or easily defined just from a few forced questions in a generalised questionnaire. I am a human being with a painful past and a better future than I could ever have imagined. Next time, can’t you ask me how I feel? Can you ask me what I need help with? Can you ask me why I have come to ask for help? Stop assuming my past is something that need to be endlessly discussed. None of those people are a part of my life – they don’t matter at all.
I need help to deal with the people that are a part of my life or those that will someday become a part of my life – I need help interacting with those people who truly matter.
