It’s been five days since my appointment and while I’m still not letting myself feel the emotions from that day, I have been taking action in other ways. For instance, I am getting referrals for hospital therapists and for a PHP program back at home. I am working on the appointment for the neuropsychiatric evaluation and getting my medications in line. For once I am willing to open up completely to a therapist to get the help I need and deserve. I am putting it all out there, in the hopes that I will get results. What happens if I don’t? Well I have some morbid ideas about that but hopefully I won’t have to deal with that.
The PHP program I am trying to get into is at a private institution which already screened me out for a psychiatrist and a therapist at their institution. This hurt me hard and had me seething at the current mental health system. I believed they didn’t want a patient as complicated as me in order to keep their numbers high, I thought they just didn’t want to deal with me and couldn’t help me. If this well-regarded mental health facility can’t help me, then who could? I felt rejected and defeated, and all as a result of the wording they used. “We don’t have any doctors willing to take you on as a patient.” As a mental health facility, I expected more. They are dealing with fragile patients and their families and hearing this felt like a kick in the gut. They referred me to a place I had already tried. I was devastated and about ready to throw in the towel.
It seems that whenever I am ready to give up, something good happens to keep me going. It’s like some cruel joke the universe has planned for me, but that’s a little egocentric and probably not true (although sometimes a good “woe is me” attitude is necessary to get through life events). I am about at the end of my rope once again. After being diagnosed with BPD and realizing that everything I am taking is the correct treatment, my hope is dwindling. I’m not sure I can take being rejected from this PHP program even though the chances are great that I will be based on past experience. The last time I needed to get into IOP, I had to go to the ED before they would see me, otherwise it would take months to even have an intake appointment. I am beyond baffled by the mental health system and shocked that in 2017 it still exists this way.
Mentally ill patients are second class citizens and it will be that way until politicians realize the necessity for social programs and subsidies. I don’t know, I hate politics. I just need something to change.
When I called the insurance about covering a partial program, the first question I was asked was “are you suicidal?” and I stumbled over my words. I thought, if I say no they may not cover the program, but if I say yes they may call the cops on me. Now, in hindsight, they wouldn’t have called the cops on me but that is such a loaded question and I was offended that I was asked that when simply implying about my coverage (or my parent’s coverage; when I get kicked off my parent’s coverage I am going to be in real trouble, but that’s a post for another day). I reiterated that I just wanted to know about coverage level, yet he persistently asked me questions like “you just had treatment, why do you need it again?” or “what is your current diagnosis and why is this medically necessary?” and I was pissed. I am not supposed to be the one explaining why this is medically necessary, how can anyone determine what is medically necessary and when? I finally told him that if he is trying to determine medical necessity that he should talk to my doctor and I just want to know what it will cost. Finally I got an answer, but I was furious. The stigma is alive and well and I see it around every corner.
Now I sit and wait once again for my fate to be delivered to me with “accepted” or “rejected”.