I went to the movies yesterday and saw this ad. I was yelling at it, well, not yelling at it, but talking loudly, at it.

You see, there’s an ugly side about getting Mental Health treatment. It’s called being told you aren’t crazy enough to get short term disability.

I mean really. What good is it to ask for help and get told no, because you are sane enough to know you are sane?

I’m in a catch-22.

I suffer from depression. I have for years. And I try to fight it. I do. But, it’s a chemical imbalance.

At the moment, I am fighting it big time. Life is a stressor. It’s a big stressor. I tried to fight it and do what I must do, but at times, life can get at you. Your medication may not work.

At this time, since Hurricane Matthew, actually, I’ll take that back,it’s been before the hurricane, but I’m using it as a cutoff at the moment, life has been hell for me. There’s a lot of stuff in my life that I have been trying to take care of, in addition to working 40+ hours at work.

In the beginning of May, I was hospitalized at a Mental Health Treatment center for a week. When I got out, I was told not to rush back to work.

Well, here’s where it gets dicey. I am on leave and it’s approved, but I’m not medical disabled at the moment to work. So unpaid leave it is.

And that’s the catch-22.

I’m sane enough to know I’m not mentally well but not mentally well enough to return to work. And because I’m not drooling and hearing voices in my head to have me committed even longer, I can’t draw short time disability. Oh, and while I’m not working, I need to pay for my Health care costs out of pocket.

So, I don’t have money to pay for my health care. My health care that pays for the medications I need to be mental fit.

No wonder people don’t go get the help they need. No wonder people lose it and go postal. I’m fucked.

We’re told to get help and when we need help, this is what we get told.

I just wanted enough money to get me through this time of need. I don’t want a yacht. I just want to get healthy and return to work. I don’t want to be a sobbing mess.

In the end, I’m being punished for trying to do the right thing.

And here’s the thing. I know I’m not alone. There are many people out there in my situation that are doing all they can to become better. They are following the advice of their mental health teams. They take their medications. They are doing the best they can, but they are told that they aren’t disabled. They aren’t in need of help according to guidelines.

I write this entry not only as a well to express my feelings on this, but to warn others. It’s no use getting help when no one will help you. Really. No wonder there is a stigmata when it comes to mental health.

The mental health treatment center failed me. They couldn’t send my records over to the company that I would take care of my short term disability. The company handling my short term disability failed me. They never DEMANDED my records. Really, they just can’t seem to grasp the human side of mental illness. I’m well enough not to be hospitalized, but I’m not well enough to return to work. Being aware of what is going on doesn’t mean I’m not troubled. And that’s that the boils down to. I feel like me and people like me are being told that our mental health doesn’t matter in the long run. We are just a bother to society. We are worthless. We are not in need of help.

You can try to be rational all you want to me, but I’m in an irrational mood. I hate that I feel this way. I don’t want to feel this way. But damn it, my mind is broken. Just because you can’t see it, doesn’t mean it’s not there. You can’t see broken bones sometimes, unless you have an x-ray, but when they aren’t working, we know people are disabled. Why do we treat mental illness differently? I don’t see you as telling me it’s a medical definition. I see it as you belittling me and making my worth worthless. I’m broken; I know it. But I’m not broken enough to be fixed within the system.

So yes, seeing this ad yesterday really pissed me off. What good is asking for help when you can’t get any help at all? Mental health help is just a farce after all (Except for my therapist team helping me. At least they care. At least I’m not just a random piece of paper to them).