Today I bid farewell to my (now ex) psychologist for the last time. I managed to come out with it that I had been thinking of ceasing treatment, my rationale being, ‘I’m sick of it’ and ‘nothing’s changed’. Which, while the truth, is not the complete story either. I received no objection from her which was convenient. My intentions in ending it were not to ‘test’ her or play mind games at all, but I confess I feel a bit tossed aside that she didn’t even suggest, ‘Hey, I think you do need some professional support in place, even if therapy with me is discontinued.’ Which confirms for me that my issues aren’t all that serious to warrant help, I don’t deserve support, etc etc.
She wrote down for me that if I am suicidal or thinking of overdosing, I should contact my GP or Dr T (psychiatrist), and then wished me the ‘best of luck with everything’. Which is really helpful considering a) I don’t have a GP and b) Dr T is likely to discharge me as a patient due to my not taking of medication. Ho hum, guess I’m left with no options for support should I find myself in crisis.
Upon walking out of her office I felt initial relief, satisfaction and a sense of elation because “Ha, that was easy!” My mood has since dipped and hopelessness is now crowding my mind. Not because I regret my decision, our lack of a connection tells me it’s the right thing to do. But because after seeing a school counsellor and two psychologists, nothing’s changed, and I’m left stranded without help, yet again. It’s feeling like no one can or is willing to help me.