Today was supposed to be a new start.
Over a month ago I spoke with my therapist about my treatment options and opted to have my CBT sessions stopped and was instead referred to counselling.
After waiting a several weeks for an appointment I received a letter in the post inviting me to an IAPT (Improving Access to Psychological Therapies) session. There would be a 45 minute talk, refreshments available and an opportunity to discuss options face to face with someone. As someone battling not just depression but a whole host of anxiety issues, including social anxiety, this sounded like my worst nightmare. I’d feel judged, stared at, what if I knew someone, what if someone knew me. There was a lot of internal debate, I couldn’t cope with going to something like this but I had to go, especially as the letter rounded of with one killer sentence.
‘If you do not attend this “welcome session” and do not ring us to cancel your place, we will assume you do not wish to be seen within our services and will discharge you back to the care of your GP’
Roll on a couple of weeks to today and I’m in a very low place. The night before my insomnia had returned, I didn’t really think I was too concerned about it, but something was keeping me awake. I’ve recently stumbled across on some thoughts which might be a cause (or at least a contributing factor) of my depression and as such my brain isn’t allowing me to rest.
Today at work I was very much in a foggy state. After going well over a year without having a public breakdown at work, in the past few months they’re becoming more frequent. Today it happened twice, once early on in the day that I was able to recover from, but the second time crippled me. I had already decided that I didn’t want to attend today’s session, I was too far gone to feel like I could bring myself back but the closer and closer it got, the more and more I spiralled. In total I spent 40 minutes sat on the bathroom floor sobbing, trying to compose myself only to breakdown again.
By the time it came to leave I was planning nothing more than getting in, turning the lights off and going to bed. On the walk home I started to change my mind, aided by some helpful words and also the feeling that I’d be letting those down who had supported me in the #15in2015 but also anyone I had inspired along the way. I had to go, I just had to.
I arrived about 10 minutes late to a ghost town, there was no indications as to where I had to go or any signs I was in the right place. I started peeking though windows to see children being taught Taekwondo in one room and people ballroom dancing in another. A timetable mentioned that two events were taking place at 6:30 upstairs, I figured one of these must be mine so I ventured up. What I found were two rooms, both set up as if for a presentation with chairs and the aforementioned refreshments, but both importantly void of any people.
On my way out I saw a couple of people with similarly looking letter in their hand and frantic, puzzled look on their face. I left, got in my car and drove home thinking that I was right for not wanting to bother in the first place.
Now I wait, wait to find out what happened to the session, where the magic cupboard into Narnia was and wait to be inevitably discharged back to my GP.