Go away world, now I sleep.
Go away world, now I sleep.
it’s no excuse, but i think they do it to protect themselves. the professionals. a white coat doesn’t make them any stronger or less human or less of a fuck up. but we treat those coats and medical equipment as if they’re magical.
I’ve always treated them with the same ammount of sceptism I do everyone else, and they still treat me like crap, and wonder why I dont like to rely on them. the NHS can suck its own bollocks.
Depression fucking sucks. People who know you have it suck worse.
When my Dad found out, he thought I was just planning on getting benefit for it, saying I was unable to work. (Which would be tempting (money is always welcome, I have a kid on the way)if I hadn’t already stopped trusting my doctors and I haven’t been back in almost a year since the diagnoses) he hasn’t said a thing since.
My Mum found out two days ago cos she went through my maternity notes. She seemed really sceptical. I’m just kinda waiting for “the conversation” now. (You know the one, it’ll make me feel worse than ever cos of my bad communication skills and somehow she’ll be the victim. Somehow.)
When I found out I was pregnant, I went to my GP cos I’d been told that’s where I needed to go to sort things out for antenatal. When I got there, I didn’t get to see the doc that had diagnosed me with depression, I got some blonde woman with pink in her hair who made me do the same depression questionnaire like a zombie, treated me like an idiot, and kept remarking that I was “very young” before telling me that the midwife service was now separate from my GP surgery in a very patronising you-should-know-this-already tone. I have not been back since, they don’t seem too worried either as they never got in touch about the treatment I was meant to be going on a list for. (I have no faith in the NHS for a reason.)
My midwife never once took my word for it that I was okay, and when I missed a few appointments refused to let go of her preconceptions that I was actually in the middle of a breakdown regardless of both my and Samuel explaining many times that this was not the case. She also insinuated that I didn’t care about the baby and would be neglectful once he arrived.
These incidents left me more upset and vulnerable than my depression ever did on its own. My mother and father are to a certain point, excusable, they don’t understand depression. But trained professionals seem to take a kind of pleasure in labelling me without understanding me, in frustrating and humiliating me, like they want to see me fall apart just so they can get some smug satisfaction because they were “right” about me.
BDIBFNWEFHBNDJCE
MY FEELS BRO
HOLY CRAP I NEED SOME HELP
WHAT AM I DOING WITH MY LIFE
FUCK MY MORAIL
ITS ALL HER FAULT THAT THIS IS ALL I LIVE FOR.
ITS LIKE ALL MY OTHER PAIRING WENT DOWN THE FUCKING DRAIN.
BFNDWBFHJ I LOVE THEM SO MUCH
SOMEONE CALL 911 I NEED AND AMBULANCE, IM DIEING FROM ALL THIS LOVE.
(Source: outlandishanatomy)
