Another Day

Well, today must be a day. I’m miserable and on the edge of collapse.

There are a few days when I am clear-sighted enough to see the breadth of the illness in me, and I feel the iron resolve to get a doctor. Why haven’t I done this previously? Because in my line of work, you can be fired for seeking mental health treatment.

I won’t allow myself to be impoverished because I sought help. So I don’t seek help. I’m already well on my way to losing my job due to the illness without anyone knowing about it. The only reason I’ve lasted this long is due to a sympathetic manager.

But today I thought, why not try again. Maybe this time the doctor will give a sh1t.

In my area there is a real deficit in psych1atr1sts. At least, ones that I want to see. My latent racism comes up here, as much as I hate to admit it, because I immediately exclude any psychiatrists who appear to not be white. I also don’t want to see any white blonde female shrinks, so I’ve got that too. When did I ever say I was a good person? I’m not.

There is a psychiatrist in my area with a typically “white” name who appears to be South Asian. Her picture is up on her HealthGrade page, and she has a open, friendly face and nice smile. She’s also located 2 miles away from my house. Guess when she has availability? July. A good five months away.

If I want any help, I have to leave work during work hours, spend 20-30 minutes driving there and 20-30 minutes back. Not to mention the appointment time. And I have to make up that time, as well. At least with a doctor who is close, it is less time I have to make up.

Not to mention the co-pays. It seems this country is designed to grind you down to nothing. For god’s sake, don’t get sick. Fack you if you do. Live in poverty in the gutter while people spit on you for not pulling yourself up by your bootstraps.

Why is it so hard to get help in my local area? Why?


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