Content Warning: This article discusses anxiety, depression, and suicide.
In the time it takes to read this article, 6 people will have committed suicide and 120 others will have others have attempted.
Most people face mental challenges in their life. But when does it become serious? When should you start to look for help? These questions alone are hard to answer, but once you decide to take action, it seems to be an uphill battle. (TLDR at the bottom at this article)
I was in one of the most difficult times of my life. Nothing in particular had happened, but I was constantly sad and anxious. That was the worst part. There was no visible end or solution in sight, and no one could offer me advice because it truly was all in my head. Why do I feel like this? Why me? Maybe therapy would help. I started to look for therapists within this criteria: accepted my insurance, was within 20 minutes driving distance, and would treat minors. Around thirty results popped up on my first search, sweet! But wait, 15 didn't take insurance and 10 didn't take minors. Ok, 5 results, I can still work with this. It was a personal preference that my therapist was also female, which narrowed me down to 3. I set up an appointment with one who seemed the most fit for my needs. I visited her for 2 months, once a week. And then, she moved 30 minutes away. No big deal, it sucks but I can deal with this. Another month passes by. She has decided to move to Colorado. We wish each other the best, and my search resumes. The next one was a bit different from what I had wanted, and was slightly more expensive. I visit her for 2 months, and she stops returning my calls. I had called to set up my next appointment, but was greeted by her voicemail instead. One month and many calls later, I gave up. What if help wasn't for me? They say help is always out there and all you have to do is ask. But I was begging, pleading, compromising, and there was still nothing. Just when I would start to manage my mental health, I'd have to switch therapists. All I could do was cry. Even the crisis text hotline couldn't help me. Many months and bad coping methods later, I decide to look again. I decided this would be the last time I'd try. Either I would receive all the help I had been promised, or this would be my end. Let things take their course and however my life turns out, so be it. I did find a therapist. In her plainly decorated office, her chair was 10 feet from mine. She was cold, judgmental, and skeptic of everything I said. In the first appointment, she refused to see me until I had been given a psychological assessment by another local psychologist. The psychologist who had given me the assessment was funny and kind. He made me feel welcome and safe. I switched to him. Never saw my other psychologist past that first appointment. I have been seeing my current psychologist for 2 and a half months now. Almost 3 years since I began my search, I have received under a years worth of therapy.
TLDR
Why was it so hard? Everyone said it would be easy, all I had to do was say "I need help", and I would be flooded with support from everywhere. But that's not what happened.
I was slapped with $150 bills and ignored. I felt hopeless and beaten down by the very thing everyone had suggested.
I was one of the lucky ones. I was someone who had not a lot of privilege, but just enough to keep me afloat.
I am surviving. But not everyone is. Not everyone has transportation, insurance, and supportive parents.
I would not have survived if I had been one of those people. And things need to change. 800,000 people should not feel so helpless, that they turn to suicide.
Smile at the stranger on the train. Leave sticky notes with encouraging messages in public bathrooms. Support your friends and family. Mental illness is real, and it is everywhere. Not everyone can find or access the help they deserve, but they should be able to rely on others to support them.
In the time it took to read this article, 6 people have committed suicide and 120 others have attempted. Be kind. Love all.