Writer’s Block

I sometimes wonder if starting a blog was a mistake.  Give me an assignment, and (with a lot of stress) I can write it pretty well, but when it comes to sharing things that effect me personally? All my writing skills go out the window.  I have wanted to share my story in the hope of showing people who have been through tough times, that they are not alone, and I want to fight for those who are denied help and abused.  But at the moment, I feel like I am failing in both.  I do little things here and there, but I don’t think I am making any difference at all.

Ever since this morning, one tiny thing has triggered a whole cascade of thoughts.  I know I’ve achieved a lot today.  I made it to PND support group which this term is a combination of an exercise class and sharing time.  I missed 2/3 of the exercise class, but made it to the sharing time. I then spent the afternoon getting an ultrasound for my abdominal pain, a cortisone injection in my wrist, heaps of xrays and a psychologist appointment.  Then home for time with the kids, neither of which went to bed until after 9.  Apparently I have little night owls.  It’s more than I’ve squeezed in a day for some time.

I’m very sore – the injection actually went very well – I was terrifed after the badly botched cortisone injection in my wrist for de guervains tenosynovitis, but this one was in a slightly different place in my wrist and afterwards, for a few hours, my wrist was painfree for the first time in many years.  I overdid it a little during that time, but it’s not too bad.  It’s a really good sign that the local anaesthetic worked for the pain for a few hours because it usually means for me that the cortisone will actually work (I’ve had lots of cortisone injections in various body parts with varying success).  What hurts however is my shoulders from being twisted in all sorts of various angles, both during the injection and in the xrays I had on my shoulders, elbows and wrists after.  I’m hoping though they’ll be better in the morning

I guess though that’s the nature of chronic pain – sometimes testing and treatment can make things worse.  All you can do is hope and pray that the extra pain is temporary and leads to enough improvement (even temporarily) that is worth the pain.

But that’s not what is bothering me.  Physical pain bothers me very little.  It hurts very badly, but rarely gets me down.  The same can’t be said about people who lie to me or hide things from me.

Ever since sharing time at my PND group this morning, just something another mum raised, totally irrelevant to me personally, meant I discovered that a mental health service I was seeing over this year and last year (and no longer seeing) either lied to me over a treatment option, or at the very least, misled me and hid information from me.  I don’t understand why.  They know I’ve worked in mental health and am going back to work in mental health, did they really think I wouldn’t find out?  Did they not stop to think about, with my history of being horribly abused by the mental health system in Brisbane, not just the physical assaults and the sexual assault and worse, but the terrible lies about treatment options I desperately needed that were repeatedly hidden from me so I couldn’t ask to access them – all things I told the people at this service I was seeing here – that I would not be hurt to find out they, at the very least, misled me?

I’m no longer seeing them so I can’t ask if what was raised was true – but honestly, deep down I already pretty much knew, just not for sure until now.  It’s something I asked several people there, many times, and while no one said “we don’t offer that treatment option”, they did say “if people need that, we refer them to other services. We only act as a referral service.”  I want to believe I heard wrong, or perhaps the lady talking about it was referring to seeing someone they referred her to, not actually at that service, but as much as I really want to believe one of those, I know I heard correctly.

I’m not going to ask the service themselves.  The person who I always get put onto is a psychologist who is always rude to me and wrote a heap of inaccurate garbage in my file, including inaccurate suicide risk assessments because she ignored everything I told her.  But I’ll speak to my case manager about it because his service has the information – to be honest, that’s part of why his service didn’t take me on as a client last year and referred me back to the other service – because the service who didn’t tell me about this treatment option should have been the one to provide treatment which is why last year, no one else could understand why these two services didn’t take me on for treatment.  I just got bounced between the two for around two months being assessed and then told that both were closing my file.

Sorry if this slightly confusing – I don’t want to go into too much detail, at least until I can decide what to do.  In the meantime though, I will call my case manager and ask him if what I heard today is definitely correct.  I know it is, but I need to hear it confirmed.

I just feel so hurt and let down again.  Yet again, the health system has failed me with lack of honesty and I don’t know why.

It’s the story of my life really.  Friends, family, teachers, physical doctors, mental health professionals… it’s like I have a giant sign on my back that says “lie to me and mislead me, my feelings don’t matter”.

I guess I overcame my writer’s block.  I just wish I had a more uplifting or useful post other than a vent about being failed.  Sorry.


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