Today I had my second session of NHS therapy for my anxiety.
I wanted to report on how it went but there really isn’t much to say – it was a fairly brief and pointless session where we spoke about the exact same things as last time.
I have a love/hate relationship with the NHS. Sometimes they help me, sometimes they don’t. I appreciate that every large system has its flaws and we’re lucky not to have to pay for our health care, but the circles I go around to get what I need is usually the most draining and time-consuming process ever.
The word that first comes to mind when I think of them is ‘frustrating’, which I’m sure isn’t in their mission statement. But the fact of the matter is, for people with mental health concerns it can be an absolute nightmare and whilst we don’t need to be tiptoed around and I’m not saying we’re anymore important than people with other conditions – if you’re dealing with potentially unstable people, stop making life so damn difficult for them.
If I go to the doctor once more needing some proper help and walk out with bloody 20mg Citalopram I’m going to lose it. If someone needs a particular drug to help them then that’s absolutely fine, I’m pro-drug in that instance. But not everyone that walks in to the GP with a problem needs a drug, and they definitely don’t all need the same pissing one!
My stance is this:
I would personally rather pay for a service that I want instantly, because having the treatment immediately is of more value to me than the money. I paid for my psychiatric assessment whereby I received my diagnosis’. I now pay for my hypnotherapy. If I went to the NHS wanting these things, I’d be both taking Citalopram and sitting on a very long waiting list.
But if it’s something that I’m not in desperate need of, I’ll wait, and wait, and wait, jump through a few hoops, wait some more and then finally get the treatment I asked for. And that’s what I did for this therapy. It’s been months and it’s now finally starting to move along a bit.
Not loads though evidently, judging by the useless session I’ve just had.
It always reminds me of something an Australian friend once said to me about the NHS. She summed it up pretty perfectly in my opinion:
I used to envy that you guys have the NHS, until I moved here and needed a doctor’s appointment.