In Which Free Student Counseling Services Prove To Be Entirely Useless.
So, my last post detailed the news I'd received last Saturday. As can probably be expected, I was coping badly, to say the least. I'd just started college and I was away from my friends, and even though I could talk to them on Facebook and call them and IM them, it really wasn't the same. And I couldn't talk to anyone here because I don't really KNOW anyone well enough. I mean, I've met people, but we aren't close enough for something like this.
Anyway, what I really needed was a human being to talk to. I decided to talk to someone in the student mental health centre thing. It was free, confidential, and I had someone who was being paid to listen and who I'd never actually have to see again.
So I go in there, and say I want an appointment "as soon as possible". They tell me someone's free in an hour. Fine, I don't have class for another three. I give them my name and go back to my dorm because I needed to print a syllabus out. I went back an hour later, and they give me a shitload of paperwork to fill out. Past psychologist, current meds, family health history, personal history, a sheet to rank the level of depression/anxiety/whatever. I fill all this crap out and give it to the lady at the front desk.
She asks me if I've ever been formally diagnosed with anything.
Me: Er... I dunno... I mean, we've thought I've had many things but damned if I know what's actually on my file.
I am then given a form to fill out so I can get my records faxed. I fill out as much of it as I can remember (doesn't help that for the life of me I can't remember my psychologist back home's last name). I then sit around for a bit, and a lady comes out. We go into her office.
She looks through the papers. "So, you've been diagnosed ADHD--"
Me: ADD. No hyperactive.
Her: We call it all ADHD.
Me: But I wasn't hyperactive.
(this goes on for awhile. She gets pissed at me, and I give up)
She goes back to the papers. "ADHD, major depression, bipolar disorder, social anxiety disorder, and Asperger Syndrome."
Me: I dunno if they were formally diagnosed.
(this goes on for like fifteen minutes. Her going through my paperwork and me going, COME ON I JUST WANT TO TALK)
Eventually we start talking. She goes on about all my past psychologists (I've seen like, nine or ten people in my life) and then goes on about why I started seeing them.
Me: o_O Stupid middle school bullying, but I don't see how that's relevent--
Her: Can you be specific?
Me: Look, I'm here because I just found out two days ago that MY TAE KWON DO INSTRUCTOR IS DYING.
She kind of ignores me and we continue to go on about middle school, and me being depressed and wanting to commit suicide FIVE FUCKING YEARS AGO, and my anxiety, ALL OF WHICH I AM DEALING WITH. We talk about the listlessness I felt a few years ago, a point where I didn't care about anything and my mother and I were thinking I was going to drop out of high school, get my GED, end up in community college living at home, go to an alternative campus, etc.
Her: Sounds like you were depressed.
Me: I dunno... I wasn't really depressed, I just didn't give a shit.
Her: That's depression.
Me: Um, whatever? Does this have any point to it?
We then discuss what type of counseling has worked for me in the past, why I kept switching psychologists, what I want to get out of this person, while the whole time I'm thinking THIS IS NOT WHY I AM HERE. DO NOT NEED PSYCHOLOGIST AT THIS TIME. NEED SOMEBODY TO TALK TO SO I DON'T FUCKING EXPLODE. I don't know how to deal with grief. My friends don't really know how to deal with it. I'm not saying the psychologist does, but... isn't that part of her job? Or at least shut up and refer me to someone who CAN deal with it. A support group. SOMETHING.
Eventually I manage to get back on the topic of MY FRIEND IS DYING, and the fact that this piled on top of the typical first-year-college-stress-deal is bringing me close to a total breakdown.
Her response? "College stress like this is normal. Lots of people go through it."
I wanted to SCREAM at her. It's NOT first-year-college-stress that has landed me here. THAT I can deal with. I have been dealing with my anxiety and my depression and whatever the hell else is wrong with me for YEARS. I can cope with that.
"It's fine," she says. "You'll realise that it isn't as scary as it seems. Everyone's going through the same thing."
NO THEY FUCKING WELL AREN'T. I AM HERE BECAUSE I HAVE TO DEAL WITH FINDING OUT THAT SOMEONE WHO HAD A HUGE INFLUENCE ON MY LIFE AND HAS BEEN AN INTEGRAL PART OF IT FOR SIX YEARS HAS TERMINAL CANCER.
I'm sitting there in tears because I can't fucking deal with this, because I can't fucking deal with HER and HER USELESSNESS and apparently she's far more interested in the shit in my past that I've worked through and am working through and doesn't really matter that much anymore than in the current situation I've suddenly found myself in.
The icing on the cake is when she refers me to an experimental outpatient thing to help deal with depression and anxiety. She gives me a brochure and a number to call. Excuse me? What the fuck? I'm already on meds for my stuff, and they WORK, and it's the first combination I've been on in a LONG TIME that's actually allowed me to FUNCTION. I do not need help with depression. THERE IS A REASON I AM DEPRESSED. People who don't have a history of depression would be depressed if they were in my situation. It isn't something I need experimental shit for. It's something I need to TALK ABOUT and WORK THROUGH.
She also gave me the number of someone who could give me a test to find out if I actually have Aspergers or not. DON'T CARE, SORRY.
And then I made an appointment to see her on September 8th.
I'm so going to cancel that shit.
Sorry about the rant, but I needed to get that out. It would feel so much better yelling at someone, but since I don't have anyone here who would let me shout and rant and cry, and who would understand and not care that I'm a wreck, I'm reduced to capslocking on LJ and attempting to shout-rant over text messaging and Facebook.
Also, I want to call my parents and tell them I want to come home for the weekend. I want to see my instructor again, because according to my friend back home (though she's not exactly the most reliable source), he doesn't have a lot of time left (she first said he had a week, and then a couple weeks to a month, and the fact that I'M NOT THERE is driving me mad because I can't find out for myself), and if I don't go home this weekend I might never have a chance to see him again. But I don't know how to tell my parents that I want to come home after a week, and that I'm not homesick, I just want to see him. I texted my friend, because I want to visit him with her because I think it'd be less awkward.
Anyway, what I really needed was a human being to talk to. I decided to talk to someone in the student mental health centre thing. It was free, confidential, and I had someone who was being paid to listen and who I'd never actually have to see again.
So I go in there, and say I want an appointment "as soon as possible". They tell me someone's free in an hour. Fine, I don't have class for another three. I give them my name and go back to my dorm because I needed to print a syllabus out. I went back an hour later, and they give me a shitload of paperwork to fill out. Past psychologist, current meds, family health history, personal history, a sheet to rank the level of depression/anxiety/whatever. I fill all this crap out and give it to the lady at the front desk.
She asks me if I've ever been formally diagnosed with anything.
Me: Er... I dunno... I mean, we've thought I've had many things but damned if I know what's actually on my file.
I am then given a form to fill out so I can get my records faxed. I fill out as much of it as I can remember (doesn't help that for the life of me I can't remember my psychologist back home's last name). I then sit around for a bit, and a lady comes out. We go into her office.
She looks through the papers. "So, you've been diagnosed ADHD--"
Me: ADD. No hyperactive.
Her: We call it all ADHD.
Me: But I wasn't hyperactive.
(this goes on for awhile. She gets pissed at me, and I give up)
She goes back to the papers. "ADHD, major depression, bipolar disorder, social anxiety disorder, and Asperger Syndrome."
Me: I dunno if they were formally diagnosed.
(this goes on for like fifteen minutes. Her going through my paperwork and me going, COME ON I JUST WANT TO TALK)
Eventually we start talking. She goes on about all my past psychologists (I've seen like, nine or ten people in my life) and then goes on about why I started seeing them.
Me: o_O Stupid middle school bullying, but I don't see how that's relevent--
Her: Can you be specific?
Me: Look, I'm here because I just found out two days ago that MY TAE KWON DO INSTRUCTOR IS DYING.
She kind of ignores me and we continue to go on about middle school, and me being depressed and wanting to commit suicide FIVE FUCKING YEARS AGO, and my anxiety, ALL OF WHICH I AM DEALING WITH. We talk about the listlessness I felt a few years ago, a point where I didn't care about anything and my mother and I were thinking I was going to drop out of high school, get my GED, end up in community college living at home, go to an alternative campus, etc.
Her: Sounds like you were depressed.
Me: I dunno... I wasn't really depressed, I just didn't give a shit.
Her: That's depression.
Me: Um, whatever? Does this have any point to it?
We then discuss what type of counseling has worked for me in the past, why I kept switching psychologists, what I want to get out of this person, while the whole time I'm thinking THIS IS NOT WHY I AM HERE. DO NOT NEED PSYCHOLOGIST AT THIS TIME. NEED SOMEBODY TO TALK TO SO I DON'T FUCKING EXPLODE. I don't know how to deal with grief. My friends don't really know how to deal with it. I'm not saying the psychologist does, but... isn't that part of her job? Or at least shut up and refer me to someone who CAN deal with it. A support group. SOMETHING.
Eventually I manage to get back on the topic of MY FRIEND IS DYING, and the fact that this piled on top of the typical first-year-college-stress-deal is bringing me close to a total breakdown.
Her response? "College stress like this is normal. Lots of people go through it."
I wanted to SCREAM at her. It's NOT first-year-college-stress that has landed me here. THAT I can deal with. I have been dealing with my anxiety and my depression and whatever the hell else is wrong with me for YEARS. I can cope with that.
"It's fine," she says. "You'll realise that it isn't as scary as it seems. Everyone's going through the same thing."
NO THEY FUCKING WELL AREN'T. I AM HERE BECAUSE I HAVE TO DEAL WITH FINDING OUT THAT SOMEONE WHO HAD A HUGE INFLUENCE ON MY LIFE AND HAS BEEN AN INTEGRAL PART OF IT FOR SIX YEARS HAS TERMINAL CANCER.
I'm sitting there in tears because I can't fucking deal with this, because I can't fucking deal with HER and HER USELESSNESS and apparently she's far more interested in the shit in my past that I've worked through and am working through and doesn't really matter that much anymore than in the current situation I've suddenly found myself in.
The icing on the cake is when she refers me to an experimental outpatient thing to help deal with depression and anxiety. She gives me a brochure and a number to call. Excuse me? What the fuck? I'm already on meds for my stuff, and they WORK, and it's the first combination I've been on in a LONG TIME that's actually allowed me to FUNCTION. I do not need help with depression. THERE IS A REASON I AM DEPRESSED. People who don't have a history of depression would be depressed if they were in my situation. It isn't something I need experimental shit for. It's something I need to TALK ABOUT and WORK THROUGH.
She also gave me the number of someone who could give me a test to find out if I actually have Aspergers or not. DON'T CARE, SORRY.
And then I made an appointment to see her on September 8th.
I'm so going to cancel that shit.
Sorry about the rant, but I needed to get that out. It would feel so much better yelling at someone, but since I don't have anyone here who would let me shout and rant and cry, and who would understand and not care that I'm a wreck, I'm reduced to capslocking on LJ and attempting to shout-rant over text messaging and Facebook.
Also, I want to call my parents and tell them I want to come home for the weekend. I want to see my instructor again, because according to my friend back home (though she's not exactly the most reliable source), he doesn't have a lot of time left (she first said he had a week, and then a couple weeks to a month, and the fact that I'M NOT THERE is driving me mad because I can't find out for myself), and if I don't go home this weekend I might never have a chance to see him again. But I don't know how to tell my parents that I want to come home after a week, and that I'm not homesick, I just want to see him. I texted my friend, because I want to visit him with her because I think it'd be less awkward.