I hate waiting. My feet cant stop tapping and my hands cant stop moving. Someone has connected me to a plug and I've got all this extra energy running through my body. And it always feels like whatever I'm waiting for is taking its time on purpose, just to wind me up and see my anxiety levels sky rocket. Every minute is a heavy load on my shoulders, the tension that builds up is ridiculous.
This was the situation I found myself in today, waiting to see my psychiatrist.....
....People keep on getting called before me. Why? I was here first. I should go in first....
...I want to poke the annoying man next to me straight in the eye. Damn he's gone now, missed my chance... Why did he get to go before me?
...If I close my eyes I imagine that behind these doors the doctors are casting magical spells upon people, making them well in one spectacular moment. It takes quite a lot of imagination, but that's what I hope for...
Eventually, my name is called.
But somethings not quite right.
This isn't the same psychiatrist I saw 6 weeks ago.
No, its definitely not.
My psychiatrist is a lady, and this person has a beard.
No one told me I was seeing someone new.
Just my new psychiatrist.
My fourth psychiatrist in 6 months.
For a person who treats people with mental health problems, this is really not a good start.
Thanks for letting me know NHS!