justaoifethings

I never thought I'd make it to 18. No, I was going to die. I thought I was going to kill myself because my internal world was unbareable. Thankfully, as seen in my last post, I was able to overcome, and here I am. No thanks to the Irish government or health system. The first psychologist I saw had a disgusting bedside manner. He seemed to judge me for the areas I had wanted to choose to cut. He made no attempt to make me comfortable, to help me articulate my feelings. He acted as if I wasn't human, as if I was a test subject from one of his books, not even looking at me to tell me I have depression. The second psychologist I saw was in the same facility. I walked into his office, and he barely even knew my name. Flustered, he was skimming through my file, asking me questions he should have known, making the situation highly uncomfortable for me. The counsellor I saw in that facility was not qualified for my situation. I was sixteen years old at the time, and she constantly