I started with high hopes for today. Although I’m distracted all day, by tears caused by the loss of my grandpa and joy of the memories of all the time we spend together, I also felt a bit relieved. I was finally able to talk and cry about it. I felt like I was finally taking some small steps forward. Some small steps towards becoming my regular self again. And this felt good.
I am desperately trying to find someone that can help me with what I’m going through, for about a month now. First I spoke to a counsellor at work. He told me he could not do much to help me and send me to a doctor and I had to wait more than one week for an appointment. When I finally got to the doctor and told my story, she gave me a number I could call if I had thoughts about killing myself combined with the number of a psychologist I had to call to find help. Again I had to wait for this appointment, two weeks this time, but today was finally the day of the appointment and I figured it would finally be the day that I would at least get a little help in figuring everything out, or at least some reflection on if I was doing the right things. Besides I was really looking forward to finally talk with a professional about everything I have been writing, everything I have been feeling and thinking, and about the process of grieving over my grandpa.
The current situation of the Netherlands made a real appointment impossible, but instead we would have an appointment over the phone, which actually made things a little bit easier, it would make the talking easier. I started talking, I told the entire story for the third time, how my energy had suddenly disappeared, how the smallest things could make me cry, how I wasn’t able to enjoy the things I used to love, how it has been a hard year, and that I really needed some help to figure things out. The woman on the other side kept asking me questions during my story, do you have a stressful job, do you have a good relationship with your parents, how long do you feel like this and do you ever think about hurting yourself. I answered everything, like I had done with the previous two people I had asked to help me, but this time I really expected some help, some tips, some support and this made me tell even more, be even more honest. After about fifteen minutes the woman tells me, I have to send you to another psychologist, here is the number, make an appointment, and don’t forget the number you have to call when you start having ideas about hurting yourself. Good luck.
I keep wondering what had happened. Was the story to similar to her own? Or was it too complicated, too though and was that why I need a more specialized psychologist? Why wasn’t she able to answer my questions, to help me? The phone call made me extremely confused, it made me overthink everything, and doubt about what is going on with me. Is it that bad? Is it that stupid? Is it that difficult? I don’t know, and I would never know the reason behind it. Maybe she was extremely pregnant, going on maternity leave soon, and wanted me to have someone to talk to that would be available for a longer time. What I do know is that again, I will have to wait two weeks until I can have my intake with the new psychologist. Another two weeks of just trying to stay alive, trying to find a little joy and trying to get to the day. Another two weeks of guessing what is right, trying to help myself, the best I can.
It is frustrating how hard it is to find someone to help me. It is frustrating that it is not possible to just get help when I need it, when I desperately ask for it. This reminds me of all the rejections I have felt when I was young, when I also tried to find help but when there was nobody who would believe me. It is painful to just wait for weeks, hoping for a little steer that could make me feel better or help me in getting better, and then leave with nothing at all. The two weeks again now seem like forever, I feel like I do not know what to do, I feel like it will take too long for me to ever be able to return to the real me. I know this is normal, I know I am actually pretty luckily with the time I have to wait, but for me it does not feel like this. I am lost, I am grieving, I am feeling. Everything is new, everything is scary and I have no idea who I am anymore. I just need someone to hold my hand and show me the way, right now, now I still remember who I once was. I’m so afraid I might forget.