Warning: Today’s post is a rant.
I am so irritable. Every person I have to speak with (cashiers, servers, neighbors) seems incompetent and I want to smack them hard (open hand) across the cheek like the hero does in an old-fashioned Hollywood movie. Whack! This is not normal for me and has been going on for about a month, I think. I usually love people and people-watching. I have met some of my favorite people because I start conversations with random strangers at the bus stop. People are great, right?
Well, I just want to effing scratch everybody I meet right now. Shut up, shut up, shut up!
I went to the Jerome Golden Behavioral Health Clinic in West Palm Beach because that is the only place in the whole county where poor people can receive psychiatric services. Turns out that was not true. They don’t write prescriptions for any controlled substances, which means simply every anti-anxiety and panic med that currently exists. No Xanax for me from them. But maybe they offer some other service like group therapy or counseling? No, they usually only offer referrals to Alcoholics Anonymous and Narcotics Anonymous. Thank God, I do not need these services.
Well, after I had waited SIX HOURS for my assessment, I figured “what the hell” and went ahead with the assessment. At least I could get my migraine medication which costs $93.
The intake counselor asked me about my deepest traumas like I was giving her a list for the market. So cold. First she wanted to know about my childhood. I am 47 years old. Is it really relevant to whether or not I qualify for free migraine medicine? I started lying to her. Turns out she was the one to give me a DSM diagnosis, which was panic and anxiety without agoraphobia. We could have done that in 5 seconds. I was really lucky, though. Any diagnosis would have stuck with my Florida medical records F-O-R-E-V-E-R. She really should have explained to me beforehand that she was going to label me. I only asked her six times. Really. I did. I am very pleased with the DSM label because I do have anxiety and panic without agoraphobia. No harm was done to me with that diagnosis. By contrast, any bi-polar /depressive /schizophrenic diagnosis would have had serious repercussions that never go away.
I left the psychiatric clinic so disgusted and with an acutely painful headache which did not respond to Valium.
I am so tired of being poor and homeless.
funny snafu part: I have enough Valium and Xanax for six months and then some. I do not need any meds from these people (because I stockpiled before I left Israel, anticipating a break in access to medical treatment). However, my foreign prescription is not recognized in Florida, therefore, I cannot pass a drug test. I interviewed this week at two good-paying jobs and I will not be able to pass the drug tests. I am temporarily unemployable.
But what I intended to write about tonight was how unsafe and devalued the staff at the Jerome Golden Center made me feel.
I think the lack of kindness to the mentally ill is a serious crime because that is a reason many people stop asking for help. I know several women who were treated badly by healthcare workers who were supposed to help them, so they never went back to the offices and, consequently, never got help when it was available. It seems to me that the most vulnerable human beings receive the least good healthcare.
Outcome: I have an appointment with a psychiatrist in 30 days and maybe then I will qualify for free migraine medicine. Big deal.
“My 2nd Psychological Assessment (aka: I Hate People).” is copyright © 2015 by Poorkitteh. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
You must log in to post a comment.