The Price of Sanity

I’ve made really not very pleasant discovery last week and that is what it costs to have long-term therapy.

I was seeing therapist for almost a year in my university town and it was great, it helped me a lot and the therapist was amazing. And it was covered by my insurance, which was also great help. Unfortunately, everything ends and so did my therapy, because in June I moved back to my home. So I went to see my psychiatrist here and asked for recommendation of new therapist, because the last one advised me to continue with the sessions. And I learned that I could get insurance payed one, but only short-term, which means about ten sessions and that’s it. If I want long term, I have to pay for it myself and it’s not small amount.

Personally, I think I could afford at least two sessions per month, that’s not the problem. I have the money, so I’m ok. But it got me thinking about the whole big picture. Imagine someone is having really bad depression and/or anxiety and it prevents them from having a regular job and supporting themselves. They are short of money and they are told that they get only ten sessions covered by insurance and if they want or need long-term therapy, they have to pay for it full. Which they can’t, because they can’t have a full-time job, so they don’t have the money to pay for the therapy that could help the get full-time job and get money and so on.

I guess other insurance companies might have better options, but honestly, I don’t believe it much. The one in my college town was probably only covered because it was in a support center for children and young adults. And I don’t know what is the solution, what is the way to get the help and support mentally ill people need. I just know it makes me sad and angry…

At my Psychologist’s

Well, writing about my illness is not as easy as I thought it would be. I thought I was really ready and with lot of things to say, but when it comes to action, I just get stuck. But I still want to keep going, it’s worth it. I had some really bad moments these past two weeks or more. I wanted to sleep all the time, I didn’t want to talk to people, I missed school just to be asleep…

Fortunatelly for me, I had an appointment with my psychologist on Wednesday. Fortunatelly because talking to her helped me a lot. She is really good, I like her. She pulled me from the worst this spring. I hadn’t seen her for about two, three months as she is in the town where I study and I hadn’t been there most of the summer. We talked and I cried. Some things are still good, my parents seems to accept my depressions, or at least partially, I don’t cut myself anymore and so… But I was so depressed and empty these past weeks that I got really scared that I will never be able to see the light again. I mean, this spring was so great for me, I changed in so many ways… and suddenly I felt none of that had happened.

We talked a lot, well I talked, she asked questions. We talked about me being unable to approve of anything I do. I know I’m good at lot of things, objectively seen. But I just don’t see it. I mean, I know it in my head, I just don’t feel it. She told me that I need to find a way to be able to praise myself, to appreciate myself. I honestly don’t know how to do it. Everytime I try to be proud of myself, I start feeling guilty. I don’t even know why, I guess I feel like it’s something wrong. We talked about the roots of me being unable to praise myself and as I had thought about the reasons many times before, I knew it. I was always pretty intelligent and I never had some big problems with school. And as my sister was the same, my parents never praised us. Almost never. I remember always being so proud of having good mark, but my parents didn’t notice. They noticed when I had worse than one (in my country, marks usually are one as the best and five as the worst), they asked me about my friend’s marks and why I wasn’t as good as them. I always wanted them to be proud and they never were. Well, they probably were, they just didn’t say it, they started when I was older, but then I didn’t care anymore. Well, I did care, but it was too late for that little girl inside me, nobody cared, when she was good. I admit when I talked about this, I cried, it hurts me. I know my parents love me and I know they always did. I know that my mum didn’t learn the “right relationship” at home and she wasn’t able to learn it for us. But that little girl inside, she tries to understand, but her heart it still wounded. I don’t know how to let it go, what to do. I know I have spend most of my life trying to make my parents proud, to make them say it. When it comes now the adult me is happy, but I still feel like it’s too late. It feels so heavy. Is it wrong of me to want something I can never have? Probably… At these moments I just fel so lost and don’t know where my path is. My psychologist says I am on my way and that I know where to go, I just don’t see it yet. I just hope she’s right, because right now, I’m just scared and tired. I just want to be happy, why does it have to be so hard?

What Was I Waiting For?!

When I was fifteen or so, I realized that the “strange” feelings, thoughts and emotions I had had for some years already, are depressions. I felt terrible, because I was taught that I should be strong and should be able to deal with everything. And I wasn’t. I was eighteen, almost nineteen, when I went to psychiatrist and got antidepressants. I was twenty-three, when I decided to visit psychologist.

I was twenty-three just about nine months ago… And things got much better after that! I can’t keep asking myself “what took you so long?!”. I could have been so much better now, if I had started years ago, as my boyfriend wanted me to. To be honest, sometimes I get pretty angry at myself, but on the other hand, what was I supposed to do, I was fifteen when I realized the nature of my problems. I was ashamed to tell my parents, because I knew they wanted me to be strong and I thought they had enough problems with my older sister and her kind of emotional teenage years and just emotional life. I didn’t want them to have more problems, I wanted them to love me and I thought they wouldn’t, if they knew. I was ashamed of myself. I wanted to kill myself when I was fifteen, because I thought I didn’t deserve to live in this world. I tried so hard to fit in my class, to fit among people, but I always felt apart. I always felt much older, I felt like I’m not even from this world. I felt such pain inside and I didn’t know how to handle it. I was fifteen! At this age, I also “learnt” from my “friends” that I shouldn’t trust people. I had a group of friends, I thought it was the kind of group that stays forever. I tried to told them, I tried to explain, but all I heard was that I was too touchy and close and they turned away. They spoke ill about me behind my back, they bullied me and to this day I remeber one thing one of them told me…he said that if I really wanted to kill myself, I would do it and not only talk about, that I just wanted attention. Such thing really helps a mind that can store all those bad things… And it really “helped” me to think that I can tell something like that to my parents.

I finally went to psychiatrist for the pills when I was eighteen and legally adult, so I didn’t have to tell my parents about it. The pills helped, they helped a lot, but I despised myself even more for being weak, for not being able to deal with it on my own. The guy I dated at the time, I think he actually broke up with me because of my illness. I know he had hard time being with me, I was emotional and all, but in anger, he also said things I remeber to this day. I know he said one day, that he is tired because he had to spend his time worring what I was going to do without him guarding me. I have new boyfriend now, well, “new” as we are almost four years together, but to this day, I’m afraid he will leave me, because he will realize that he can’t live with me, that I’m too much trouble, too much worrying, too much emotions and just too much… I know I’m hurting him with these doubts, but after all this and much more, I have really hard time believing I’m worth all this trouble I cause.

I went to psychologist after I almost broke down before graduating university. Me and my boyfriend argued a lot, I was nervous, it was just too much… I started cutting myself, which was something I hadn’t done for a really long time. I felt so much pain I wasn’t able to stand it. I felt like it’s going to cut me from inside. I stopped caring if anyone see the cuts. I actually showed to them to one of my college friends, who said in a very disapproving voice that I didn’t need to do that. Yeah, like she knew anything… So I went to the psychologist and almost broke into tears there. I was just so exhausted, to this day I have no idea how I was able to study for my exams, pass them and actually pass them well. I wished someone would come and place me into some hospital, where I wouldn’t have to do anything and people would just tell me what to do, because thinking was so much trouble…

But, things got better, I even talked to my parents and told them the truth. They took it pretty well, it was hard for them, it’s still pretty hard, but our relationship have gotten much much better since and I’m grateful for that. And I keep thinking, why didn’t I go to a psychologist before? I knew where to go, I just felt like I have to deal with it on my own, otherwise I’m weak. I get pretty angry at myself fromt time to time, because I could have saved myself so much trouble and pain, if I just decided to go to this psychologist earlier. I know it’s something I need to forgive myself and I’m trying, but…

So if you’re out there, having problems, please don’t wait and find some help. The pain it’s not worth the waiting and there are qualified people, who can help you. I know it’s hard, I know nobody wants to admit these problems, but please, do it for youself. Things will get better, you will get better!