Being A Patient (Becoming The Cure)

Being a patient I feel useless - a mess. I can't even control my own brain chemicals. I am ill - mad - unable to cope with my life and a burden to the state.

My life is full of groups for those in the same state as me - activities ranging from pottery, cookie eating to bingo or just sitting around wishing I was somewhere else. I see doctors, consultants, SHOs (baby doctors), students, nurses, Occupational Therapists, GPs, Healthcare Support Workers, psychologists, social workers, key workers, homecare support workers …. My life is theirs.

As a patient it's my role to be fixed - cured. My psychiatrist and his team know best. They see me as a complex mix of symptoms and behaviour. High? - reduce the antidepressants, Psychotic - raise the dose of Seroquel. Not sleeping? - Too high or possibly too low. Is it the voices? - check the Seroquel dose. Are you taking your medications? If the drugs don't work I risk being labelled as resistant - maybe even personality disordered. Given up on because after years of their help I refuse to improve. When all I want is to feel ok - get my life back.

I feel hopeless. I feel that this is my lot. That my illness has taken over my life. I feel I need someone to help me.

At the same time I look down on myself and am shocked at what I see. I was once full of promise - young, confident and well stocked-up on brain cells. Now I see someone full of anxiety, trying to curl themselves up into a ball, unable to tell the doctor what's wrong. Afraid and confused. What happened to me?

I do need someone to help me. I really do. But I also need to feel in control, like I have a say. To have it recognised that I am the authority on my internal mental states. I need my doctors to take their cue from me - to be used as tools to aid my recovery.

I am a patient, yes, but where's it written that patients can't help themselves? And so now I'm also working on becoming my doctor.

Rachel Waddingham © 2002