Something easily taken for granted, something for which we must always be grateful: health care.
It’s dangerously easy to forget that health care is a privilege when you’ve had it for so long. And although I’ve complained about the health care system in Canada and Ontario before, both mental health care specifically and Canadian health care compared with Japanese health care, I am, in the end, pretty spoiled when it comes to receiving medical attention.
These medical resources, especially these “free” medical resources, are invaluable. Use them, no matter how tedious they may seem. Make phone calls, write emails, get on waiting lists, show up for your appointments. Get your money’s worth, speak your mind, and take care of yourself.
Please! Take care of yourself.
Read the original post of 101 Reasons to Keep Living to discover the genesis of this project, or catch up on any posts you might have missed here.
Although this blog series is directly related to mental health and mental illness, I don’t often talk about mental health services here. Perhaps the reason I skip over subjects like medication, therapy, and hospital visits is because, although these services and techniques help those suffering to keep living, they aren’t often something to look forward to. Continue reading
Have you ever run on sand — soft, dry sand that falls away beneath your feet? Well, that’s what living with mental illness is like. While everyone else sprints along the concrete beside you, you stumble and twist your ankles and fall gradually behind.
No, let me correct myself: living with mental illness is like running uphill on sand.
No, wait. It’s like running waist-deep in water with muck under your feet. It’s like swimming through molasses.
It’s like drowning. Continue reading
It is common cliché to advise the mentally ill to speak up about their suffering, to communicate, and to seek help because — didn’t you know? — there are an incredible number of mental health services available to provide treatment and aid to those in need. I hear people speak of therapy, of crisis lines, of psychiatric care, and of medication. I hear people tell stories of how they conquered mental illness, how they found the “right drug” for them, and how their therapist knows them better than they know themselves. What I don’t hear a lot of are the horror stories: the whispered conversations about medication changing one’s personality, about therapy that didn’t help, about monstrous wait times for psychiatrists — about self-harm, about suicide. Continue reading