Falling through the Cracks

     One of the most important ways a depressed person can do to feel better is to never give up.  Education and asking for help are so important when it comes to fighting this disease.  While I have made some progress over the last year or so, I still find myself deep in the dark place at times.  So I ask for help.
     In a previous post I mentioned that my family doctor suggested that I my be ADD.  Regardless of what it may be called I told her that I wanted to see a specialist and knowing that many Psychologists cost upwards of $125.00 a session and knowing that I would not be able to afford more than four of five visits, we decided that I should visit our local Mental Health clinic where I could get in for free.
     I nervously waited for the day to arrive.  While I did not expect to walk out of the first visit feeling 100% better I did not expect to come out of it feeling worst but that's what happened.  I never mention names of people in my posts, not even my family's.  After all, they didn't ask to be written about.  So I am not going to mention the name of the Clinical Therapist I sat down with that evening.   There were two ladies in the room, one of whom was a student of some sort.  The usual questions were asked.  "Why was I here?  What did I think caused my issues?  What do you think you need to do to solve these issues?"  Frankly I found some of these questions very tedious.  I explained my situation, went over my history and talked about the dark places I could find myself in. I also told her that my family doctor suggested ADD might be playing a part.  The Therapist looked at me, always a smile on her face, and told me that I seem to be handling the situation pretty well.  I wondered what "pretty well" meant?  She said I was doing better than others in my situation.  I began to get an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach.  After 20 minutes the therapist asked me to go to the waiting room while the two ladies talked my case over.  When I returned, the therapist smiled at me and told me that I was handling my depression fairly well and that she saw no need to continue but if I ever wanted to talk I could call the clinic.  Oh yeah, they don't handle ADD diagnosis.  For that I would have to go to a psychologist and pay that $125 and hour.
     The walk home was very cold and it was dark.  At one point I took a path between streets that had no lighting.  There were woods and at one point I could not tell if I was on the right path or not.  I would have screamed but I did not want to alarm anyone living close by.  I had great hope for that meeting.  What I came away with was that my issue was not enough for the clinic to attend to.  Maybe if I have come in and told them about demons or voices in my head I would have been taken more seriously.  I was not "sick' enough.  Yet there I was, alone on a dark path not knowing where to go next.  What does it say about our mental health system when someone reaches out for help and you get dismissed.  Yes, she did say I could come back and talk but I could see in her eyes that any further exposure to her would do me more harm than good.
    So a week of darkness was my reward for trying.  I know that it is important to pick myself up and start again.  I will see my family doctor next week and together we will come up with a new game plan.  I expect it will involve seeing that expensive psychologist.  I'll figure it out as I go.