This is the NHS. I don't need to say any more, but I will.
After a year, T concluded I need to be seen by a specialist service. She also agreed with two previous therapists that it wad unsafe for me to do the processing stage unless I was admitted somewhere. She identified two possible providers and wrote a report saying this form of treatment was needed. After previous experience, I was not hopeful, but she was determinedly optimistic about it. We have run out of sessions now, so as of last week I have no therapy or support.
A meeting was held on Monday, with the more local of the specialists, a Consultant Psychologist, my Care Co-ordinator and my Social Worker. The outcome was that an application will be made for funds for me to be assessed by this service. There is no guarantee that it will be approved, and if it is approved, there is no guarantee that the recommendations of the assessment will be funded or acted on. It will be a month until this application is considered, and I have no idea when I might be told an outcome. I only know the decision made this week because T was kind enough to phone me: usually there is a wait of 2-6 weeks for a letter.
I was so foolish even partially to believe my T's assurance that this would move forward. She still seems naive enough to think hat clinical need will trigger treatment. Hope is destructive, no hope is very destructive. I'm trying my hardest not to acknowledge that any of this is happening. Trying to get treatment shouldn't be a re-enactment of my abuse, where I have to wait passively for it to be over.
If this assessment is funded, I'm afraid that I may not answer scrupulously honestly, because I know that continuing treatment will depend on me appearing to have specific traits. I will point that out, but I'm afraid that even doing that will make me look too self-aware to merit anything.
After a year, T concluded I need to be seen by a specialist service. She also agreed with two previous therapists that it wad unsafe for me to do the processing stage unless I was admitted somewhere. She identified two possible providers and wrote a report saying this form of treatment was needed. After previous experience, I was not hopeful, but she was determinedly optimistic about it. We have run out of sessions now, so as of last week I have no therapy or support.
A meeting was held on Monday, with the more local of the specialists, a Consultant Psychologist, my Care Co-ordinator and my Social Worker. The outcome was that an application will be made for funds for me to be assessed by this service. There is no guarantee that it will be approved, and if it is approved, there is no guarantee that the recommendations of the assessment will be funded or acted on. It will be a month until this application is considered, and I have no idea when I might be told an outcome. I only know the decision made this week because T was kind enough to phone me: usually there is a wait of 2-6 weeks for a letter.
I was so foolish even partially to believe my T's assurance that this would move forward. She still seems naive enough to think hat clinical need will trigger treatment. Hope is destructive, no hope is very destructive. I'm trying my hardest not to acknowledge that any of this is happening. Trying to get treatment shouldn't be a re-enactment of my abuse, where I have to wait passively for it to be over.
If this assessment is funded, I'm afraid that I may not answer scrupulously honestly, because I know that continuing treatment will depend on me appearing to have specific traits. I will point that out, but I'm afraid that even doing that will make me look too self-aware to merit anything.
