The CAMHS Crisis: My Counsellor Killed Me

Well, it’s me again, and I’ve just got back from my CAMHS counsellor who I am now certain is trying to kill me. When you say you have a plan to kill yourself shortly after attempting an overdose, you should expect some help. Well… not if you have my counsellor. I’ve heard countless stories about this before but I thought maybe CAMHS could help me, at least they have now shown me their true colours.

You will notice that as I write this the drugs from my overdose have probably left my system since I am pumped with adrenaline, ready to complain about how CAMHS, run by the NHS who is owned by the government, doesn’t want to help me and is essentially leaving me to die.

Prior to my meeting today they had been informed by my college counsellor that I had taken an overdose on Saturday night. I’m still alive if you are wondering (seriously, you should have guessed) and I was starting to feel a little bit better until I saw CAMHS. They also know that I actively self-harm, and that I am currently receiving very little help. I get help from my GP who I see once a week but they are only their to listen to me. I get help from the college counsellor, who is someone who will actually listen to me. CAMHS also know that I am not very happy with them, since they told me that they could not help me with my depression that they haven’t diagnosed yet (the GP believes I have it though).

The meeting started off with talking about my overdose. I wasn’t exactly sure what they wanted me to tell them. They already know what I took, when I took it and what happened afterwards regarding college and the NHS. The only information I could give them was that I told my friend after the overdose happened, and that they told me to go to see a doctor. I didn’t see a doctor, CAMHS did not really care why. CAMHS were not that interested in why I overdosed but I believe they asked me once, possibly twice. They were very concerned about why I told that particular friend. Do they believe I am a bad person for not telling my other friends? Do I have a secret illegal drug deal with this friend and I must tell them I might die, which means they don’t get their regular fix? I wouldn’t be surprised if that is what CAMHS believed. Anyway, I gave them some information added onto what they already know. You can’t say I’m not communicating.

Next they gave me a questionnaire to complete, their were over 100 questions on it. For each question I had to answer with “Never”, “Sometimes”, “Often” or “Always”. Only a few questions were yes or no. Pretty simple, and it should be obvious in some cases whether the person answering will need help. I’ll show you some of my answers to the questions.

Do you self-harm?
Yes
I wish I were dead.
Often
I feel no one loves me.
Often
Do you have a plan to kill yourself?
Yes

Now if someone came up to me and said they regularly cut themselves, they have no one that loves them, that they wish they were dead and had a plan to do it I would be extremely concerned about them, and would try to give them all the help I could get. If I also knew about their recent attempt to overdose I would be in tears. Apparently CAMHS don’t care though, as you’ll see through the rest of the post. I also want to note that I don’t actually have another plan yet but I’m thinking, I do still have my rope from ages ago.

So after this questionnaire they decided they were going to pass me onto their supervisor. I’m guessing they didn’t know what to do with me (I think they are in training still). I small part of my mind makes me think they can’t be bothered to deal with me, but while I’m thinking straight I’ll say that probably isn’t the case. I wouldn’t be surprised though it they couldn’t be bothered. They sent me back to the waiting area with my mum while the counsellor and supervisor talked.

A short while of waiting and I’m being led into a room with both the counsellor and supervisor. The supervisor is now pretending they know everything about my life, claiming that I am embarrassed to talk about whatever I wont talk about. They were certain I was embarrassed, after only a few minutes of knowing me (or not really knowing me). They found out a few things about my personal life such as what relatives lived with me and what I study at college. They are so quick to judge, if I were to judge them I would say they haven’t had a proper education. In fact I have convinced myself that when I get my A-Level maths qualification in the summer I will be a better qualified psychologist than them. Yes, I’m convinced. The whole way they act, they believe they know my life story without talking to me, they think they know everything I am thinking. They told me what they “know” I am thinking, and it wasn’t. They don’t seem to want to discuss it very much, so I don’t really have much of a chance to tell them. I wouldn’t want to talk to someone as rude as them anyway.

So they were stuck, their detective skills were unable to figure out everything so they brought my mum in the room. They then talked to my mum as if I weren’t in the room. How was he growing up? Was he dropped on the head is what they were getting at. How is his relationship with his family? What he abused by anyone in the family is what they were getting at. What does he do with his friends? Is he a drug abuser or a prostitute is what they were getting at. How rude, I was wondering if I was invisible at this point. I was beginning to think I was Harry Potter was the invisibility cloak, and Hagrid was about to come at take me to Hogwarts, which would explain why I don’t fit in around here.

The talking went on and on. I can’t remember everything they said as they just talked, didn’t care about me being involved in the conversation, only about making me feel bad. They dropped a lot of hints to make me force them to tell them everything, but they wouldn’t ask me. They hinted at me getting kicked out of college if I don’t tell them, but I’ll talk to my college tomorrow and confirm this isn’t true. They were saying I will be stuck like this forever if I don’t tell them, but I never knew the cure for depression was talking to rude, inconsiderate people. Eventually they allowed me and my mum to leave. Yes, the guy with a plan on killing himself was allowed to walk out of the government organisation designed to keep him safe.

So in the end you can see I am very angry. I was expecting more. One of the questions on the questionnaire was talking about if I wanted help, and I said yes to it so they can’t say I didn’t ask. Even if I didn’t, you would expect them to try and help me. I’m sure a lot of the people who get put on mental wards do not ask for help. I’m not even saying they had to put me in hospital, I received no help for keeping safe or anything. They didn’t tell me to stay with other people to keep safe. They are threatening me saying I must tell them more information during the next meeting or else I won’t be able to work with them. The threat isn’t very good because I don’t really want to talk to anyone like them. I’ll be glad to get them out of my life.

Now comes the honest part. I hope they get fired. I will complain to my local MP, I will complain to CAMHS, and I will complain to the government. They need to review these people who are meant to be helping me, and if this is a CAMHS-wide problem the whole organisation should be reviewed. If they don’t want to help me, I hope they get fired. After all, their job is to help me.

So what help will I receive now? I still have my college counsellor to talk to, who is far more helpful. I am going to see my GP tomorrow as well, and I’ll tell them what disgusting people I had to put up with today. Yes, I’m angry. But at least I have my readers to comfort me, how is everyone else doing?

Suicidal, Anyone To Talk To? No?

I’m not sure what to do, I honestly don’t see the point in living right now. What do I have to look forward to? College? Friends? Family? Hobbies? The answer is nothing, there is nothing to look forward to because nothing good is going to happen to me. There is something worse though, I have no one to talk to.

My friends? Well, I have two friends who know about my depression. One lives 3000 miles away in another continent (which is why I sometimes don’t include them and say I only have one friend I can talk to). They also won’t be able to talk to me tomorrow or Saturday due to religious reasons. My other friend, as I keep mentioning recently, does not seem to want to talk to me. They keep “making other plans” when we already have plans to meet. I’m not sure if they still want to be friends. All of my other “friends” do not know about my depression, so I would struggle to talk to them.

My family? I’m not sure if they even care. Honestly, if I left the house and didn’t return tonight they wouldn’t even care. They might start to be curious after a day or two, but I can’t imagine them losing any sleep over me disappearing. I don’t see why I should talk to them about my depression if they don’t care.

My GP or counsellor? I can’t trust them at the moment. If I talk to them about my suicidal thoughts they will probably try to make me go to hospital, which is the last thing I want to happen. Anyway, my counsellor hasn’t even helped me yet so telling them that I want to kill myself will just make things worse.

A suicide helpline? I have just talked to Childline (before writing this) and they didn’t help me at all. They keep bringing up the past times I talked to them, and avoiding all the questions I asked by asking some of their own. I have emailed Samaritans, and I might call them tomorrow because they are better at dealing with suicide.

Anyone else? I don’t know. Well, it seems I don’t really have anyone to talk to at the moment. Maybe I could cut my arms again until Samaritans reply to my email (which will be a few hours), or maybe I could start making a new suicide plan because I haven’t thought about it for a while. What do you guys think?

The Rising Submarine

Days like this I wish I could just end it, I went out today to think about whether I was going to commit suicide but I said I will leave it until tomorrow, until my friend replies to my text. I feel empty. I feel pointless. That’s all I feel, my emotions have been drained by my constant sadness. I will be seeing my doctor again on Wednesday, but I do wonder what the point is. I have seen my regular GP 3 times, and this new doctor once. My mental state hasn’t improved, its got a lot worse. Christmas probably made it worse, don’t get me started on that though.

Click here for the last time I felt like this – it was quite recent.

With whatever emotions I had left I freestyled this poem today. Literally! I spent about 5 minutes writing it, and have not edited it. I haven’t even read through it to make sure everything makes sense, but then my mind does not make sense so I guess my poem will show how I feel. I’m not sure why I refer to submarines either, maybe because I want to lock myself in a submarine and sink to the bottom of the ocean. That would surely put me out of my misery, right?

The Rising Submarine
Nothing.

No feeling,
No emotion,
No comfort,
No purpose,

Feelings like submarines,
Sinking to the bottom, forgotten,
Left for years, rotten,
One day it will rise to the surface,
But still you can’t find the purpose,
Just blasting through the armada,
Missiles, torpedo’s, gunfire,
Trying to stop it just makes it harder,
But one bullet goes astray,
It dodges all strangers and finds its way,
To the one you love,
And you wish you had never floated above,
The surface line,
In time,
You’ll learn to control the monster inside,
Hide it away, locked in chains,
To get there you’ll be prodding brains,
Find what makes them tick,
What makes them fight, what makes them kick,
When you understand the meaning,
Maybe you can control the feeling,
But until the times comes,
The submarine remains forgotten,
You sit there wondering,
If it will ever rise to the surface,
Or if it will stay motionless.

I’ve Already Checked

I spent a lot of my day today looking up methods of suicide on the internet, and thinking about which of these I could do in my room while nobody is around. After a while I stopped and thought to myself, why am I looking? Why do I actually want to die?

I’ve Already Checked
I’ve already checked,
My window is definitely too small,
To allow an accidental fall,

I’ve already checked,
The officer removed my blade,
When I assisted in his raid,

I’ve already checked,
I can’t hang myself with string,
I’m dead certain it’s too thin,

I’ve already checked,
Either an overdose will go wrong,
Or I’ll be discovered before long,

I’ve already checked,
The plastic bag will get torn,
So it’s depressing to have worn,

I’ve already checked,
And I can’t find the pill,
They use for an instant kill,

I’ve already checked,
And I don’t see why I should try,
If I’ve already forgotten why I should die.