Shrink Wrap

img_2086Mental health assessments are not fun. On the one hand you have to try to express emotions and responses which are proving problematic and on the other there is no sense of completion and no follow up to help you feel strong and safe enough as you walk back out of the room. It’s not therapy it’s scrutiny. It can feel like boxes need to be ticked in order to persuade them of your need for support.

It’s unlikely I am going to get the support I would prefer – a return to my former therapist. If I were trying to kill or harm myself – or others – they’d been more worried, more likely to section me and perhaps more likely to put me back working on this shit with someone who has previously been beneficial. As it is I am simply unbalanced, somewhat bewildered and more than a little lost. Not necessarily the right boxes when it comes to ticking off ‘need’.

I am being put forward for advanced work with a CBT therapist but have already admitted I’m unsure it will help that much: I’ve done CBT in the past, albeit not at this level of intensity, and it’s a very ticking boxes friendly sort of affair, something NHS financial decision makers can be shown graphs of to convince them to put money into it rather than genuinely patient-centric transformative and transactional therapy.

I’ve not rejected the idea simply because there is usually something to learn in any therapeutic situation but when it comes to addressing the issues and the symptoms of what increasingly appears to be obvious as PTSD, CBT isn’t going to change a great deal. There is, anyway, part of me that feels rather insulted by the blanket notion that we can all learn to challenge and change all patterns of thinking by noticing that we’re in those patterns. Doesn’t feel that far away from being told it’s all in the mind. Well duh!

I sound cynical. I’m not, I’m trapped inside the things I needed to churn up today to help them comprehend what I’m going through and how it affects my day to day life. And I’m disappointed though not surprised at the unlikelihood of being able to return to my previous therapist. If it seems ungrateful to be negative about the sort of support I am probably going to be offered then I guess I’m ungrateful. Or I’m honest and self-aware to the point of knowing what is and what isn’t effective for me.

Ho hum. Two weeks and a couple of days until I have a break from England. I wonder if that new president will like me?

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