Where to start? I feel like a failure. Not well at all. I ignore the question when I am asked how I am these days.
The first time I asked a GP about my mental health a couple of years ago, I was told to take vitamin D and wait for summer. For those following the blog – you know nothing changed. I took mood lightening pills for a while, but that too didn’t affect. When I told my doc, she dismissed it. I felt bad. Worse than before and not taken seriously. And I just stopped talking with doctors about it. Talking to my friends or loved ones about it always ended in backlash. In the end, I only ever mentioned it on here, and I dared to talk about it to an online friend.
2019 was a hard year. And 2020 didn’t start well either. My shoulder is still in pain and last Monday, I met a new doctor. I was referred to him because of my shoulder and the migraines I keep having. The GP does acupuncture and is a chiropractor too. I had to be there at 9:30 in the morning, and that morning was tough. Anxiety attack included. And I cried silent tears all the way to the doc. In my car, I decided that it was time to ask to be referred to a therapist. After all, the new doc didn’t know me, and maybe he would react differently.
I was shaking with nervous while I had to wait to be called into his office. I was greeted by an older man, probably well in his 50s speaking German. I had a referral because of the migraines and the aches in my shoulder. We talked some; the typical anamnesis. Then he asked me to take off my top to take a look at my shoulder and feel for the knots and aches. He found some tenseness and made me put one hand here, the other there, and with some cracking noises, he straightened my back. We sat at his desk again, where he explained the acupuncture, and that was when I took courage in both hands and told him about my mental struggles. Contrary to the other doctor, he took me very seriously and listened and said very sternly that this is not dealt with by taking pills. He took his time and found therapists that I should contact.
After that, we changed rooms, and he started with the needles. Hands, feet, neck, shoulders, one in the head, and half a dozen in my right ear. (I have a phobia, no one is allowed to come near my ears or touch them – really hate the feeling, and it makes me uncomfortable.) I was brave, though, and let the doc stick six needles in my ear. Psycho-needles as he called them.
I was lying in a room for 50 minutes with needles stuck in me, soft relaxing music, and an incense stick burning down. And I was crying. Tears just flowed out of my eyes, and I couldn’t stop. I stared at a white wall, unable to move, crying, and thinking. All alone. For a long time. And when he came back to take the needles out, I couldn’t speak. I was overwhelmed. Still crying silently while I got dressed. And then he touched my shoulder, smiled, and said:
“Cry. Just cry. It is okay to cry.”
And I did. All the way home. In my car. A thirty minute drive. I felt bad. You know, healthy people don’t feel the way I feel, and I am aware that there is a lot of unresolved trauma in me. It makes me feel like a failure. It makes me feel bad. Because I openly, privately admitted to this. It is different than sharing it all here on this blog.
I came home and tried calling the psychiatrists the new doc told me to contact. Still feeling brave, I called, but no one was there. I wanted to take it as a sign. Maybe it is not as bad, and maybe I don’t need anyone. Maybe… But what if not… What if this is my chance to heal?
I went to work in the afternoon – horrible shift, but the doc said it was important to have routines. I am not sure… I will speak to him tomorrow again.
Later, when I came home, I took my phone again, and from the three psychiatrists I had called at noon, I called one again, and I got an appointment in two weeks.
So now, I know that I took a crucial step, but I feel like a failure. I was not strong enough to overcome this by myself, and I am not sure if I will be able to speak to a stranger about me.
So yes… That is what happened these days. I am not well and asked for help feeling worse.
I tried talking to my husband about it but he is very dismissive. He has a lot of things at work too…
It is just weird. All is weird. I should be happy, but to be honest, I am scared. Very very scared.
It is a lonely time for me. But I am a fighter. I am not sure how much I will share of this. Maybe all, maybe nothing, we will see.
Thank you for this safe place. ❤❤❤