It’s been a long day: first I had to explain mental illness to a psychiatrist; then I had to explain mental health cuts to my family. They know. Or they should.
That’s the thing with mental health: you’re always having to explain and justify it in a way you simply don’t have to with physical illness. No cancer doctor would see a new patient without making sure they’d read all the relevant documents first; not so in mental health. No-one would tell a relative that the reason they hadn’t got cancer treatment they needed was because they hadn’t been nice enough to the cancer clinic; not so in mental health. If I had cancer, I’d show up at the clinic and know the doctor would (or should!) have checked the slides and results first; not start from scratch. If I had cancer, family would say how awful it was that cutbacks meant I couldn’t get treatment; not that it must be because of something I’d said or done. It’s bad enough having mental health problems without also having to justify their existence – or your own worthiness to receive help.