Who helps the helpers?
9.17.21
I’ve walked professionals through the incredibly difficult process of asking for and then being willing to receive help. Those who are successful in other parts of their lives come to an understandably difficult crossroads of “how can I achieve so much in these other areas, but this *insert addiction or mental health diagnosis* brings me to my knees and I can’t fix it.” It’s humbling. It’s scary. And it’s 100% necessary. Asking for help, that is. And our shame tells us that we should be able to handle it. We should be able to get our shit together.
I called my insurance provider last week to see what mental health benefits I have available to me. It was awkward as I shifted from mental health professional to depressed person who really needed someone else to be the helper for once. I’ve been in the industry for over 15 yrs and have been a fierce advocate for those who are fearful to access help for whatever reason. And there I sat, feeling shame and having difficulty finding the right words to let someone know that it was me who needed help this time. The next hour of phone calls displayed an embarrassing lack of education, training, and empathy from those in this particular health care system. No wonder people don’t want to make these calls. They are awful. Well meaning employees who are likely doing the best they can with whatever training they have were stumbling over the same questions or being completely robotic. One was so rude that I almost launched into a self-righteous attack of “who trained you and on what planet is it ok to speak with such a lack of compassion?!?!” Thankfully, I had a moment of my own compassion and wondered if she too was going through something really hard and this was the best she could do. I answered her questions and we moved on. I do not mean to make excuses for poorly trained hospital employees, rather in this particular moment, getting angry and destroying another human being would not have helped me or her. *And isn’t this usually the case? Those who are hurting the most have the ability to hurt others the most. It’s like we want to shed some of our pain onto someone else hoping it will decrease our own suffering. It never works that way, though.
After several transfers, a couple confused employees, and 1 hour and 18 minutes on the phone (over half of that was on hold), it turns out I have coverage and meet criteria to go to a mental health intensive out-patient program through my provider. They aren’t sure if there will be a wait, but they will notify my psychiatrist who will then make the referral. If the wait is too long, I have the option of going to an outside treatment provider they are contracted with. The catch is that I am a frequent referrer to this treatment provider. I know many of the clinicians. I prayed that the wait wasn’t too long with my provider so that I wouldn’t have to make that decision.
The following day when my psychiatrist scheduled our phone session to discuss what I was experiencing and what would be the next best choice, I was afraid that I wouldn’t be able to advocate for myself. I was afraid that she would recommend another medication and I would just go along with it because I was tired of not being ok and a quick fix in a pill sounded pretty good at this point. She did just as I expected but I was able to voice my concerns and we ended up with a plan I was comfortable with.
I don’t want to be angry with her, rather the reality of our entire healthcare system is totally fucked up. Managed care is BIG MONEY and it is hard to care about money and people in the same breath. I’ve seen it firsthand and it is ugly.
For now, I will stay focused on what matters: me, my family, and taking this one day at a time.