First, I want to say that my medication is working well, and life is… good. I haven’t had any suicidal thoughts in almost a week, and I feel certain again that I can face any challenge that comes my way. I smile more, and things don’t seem as overwhelming. I’m back to looking forward to challenges and overcoming difficulties. I’m writing again. And I remember what it is to feel unbreakable. There are some cracks in the armor, still, but I at least feel like they’re repairable. Every day is a little bit better. And, more importantly, I’m still trying to make it better for other people that suffer from depression in my community. For the first time in a long time I feel like I can do something about it. I don’t feel weak and insignificant anymore. I don’t feel like I’m unworthy of change.
I think that all of this bodes well for the conversation I’m supposed to be having on Tuesday. I’m scheduled to talk with the VP of Operations and a team of people at the original hospital that “treated” me for my depression a few weeks ago (if you haven’t read that story, click here). They say they want to hear my story and learn from my experience… but I’m going to be honest: I’m not sure I trust that. That’s probably not the best mindset to have when entering a meeting that has the potential to do a lot of good, but I can’t help but wonder if this is just an attempt to placate the crazy woman who’s causing too much of a stir. Why would they see me as someone who could possibly have anything valid to say? They’re trained doctors and I’m a mental health patient who can be ignored for six hours. And if I’m not 100% rational in everything I say and do on Tuesday, they’ll be able to just write off my attempts as hysteria and move on. Then nothing will ever change.
If I’m going to do this, I need to be at my best. I am an intelligent, professional young woman. I am more than a suicide risk. And other mental health patients deserve to be seen the same way– because who we are when we walk in for help is not the person we want to be. But if we’re ignored, we never get to be that person again. And if we’re charged $1400 for being ignored, we’ll never try again, either.
I know that talking with these people does have the potential of helping others with mental health issues. As I look through the last several posts I’ve put up here, and at other writings I didn’t even share, it’s hard to see how… broken I felt. It’s hard to recognize that that was me. That that’s too many people out there, who haven’t gotten the help they’ve searched for. Most people’s stories wouldn’t have ended like mine– most people wouldn’t have had the support to get them the help they needed after their initial attempt failed. Most depressed people don’t care enough about themselves to speak up. And that’s what I want to relay to the people I’ll be speaking to. I feel confident and sure of myself. I’m aware of the world around me and want to fit into it again– but I am not a good representation of people with depression. Because a lot of those people can’t stand up for themselves. Can’t fight back.
Hopefully, that’s where I come in. Wish me luck.