Revolving door

My house door became a revolving door of healthcare professionals coming in and out. Next to call was care coordinator and psychiatrist.

I would find out much later on that a friend I had disclosed to how I was feeling, who also worked in the CMHT in a different locality, had called the care coordinator saying that I was unlikely to be fully truthful to the psychiatrist and was not well. The care coordinator told her it was best to not tell me that they had spoken as I already had mistrust in services.

I was not happy the psychiatrist was there. I was adamant I would not take medication. She said other options could be a mother and baby unit. I refused this. She wanted me on antipsychotics. I refused saying I was not psychotic. We finally agreed I would start on 50mg of sertraline, an antidepressant. She gave me the prescription slip but I was already certain that I would not be cashing it in. By this point I believed they would some how poison the medication they wanted to give me. Why would they? I couldn’t really explain this but I just knew that the government was out to get me.

The psychiatrist said she wanted to discuss with the team tomorrow about what would be the best way to support me. I said to her I did not want to be discussed. Little did I know that this discussion she would have would lead to more professionals knocking at the revolving doors.