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Time is up

Just as when the care coordinator visits, looking at his watch and avoiding questions which may make more work for him, today we ran out of time.

The new psychotherapist had not read my notes. She did not know I was married. She did not know my family composition. I said I had filled out paperwork. She said she could read it but she'd like me to tell her. 50 minutes is not enough to summarise 18 months.

I started with the panic of yesterday. She didn't ask any more.  After 50 minutes halfway through a sentence describing how I feel my voice isn't heard she said, "sorry, times up, we will pick up same time next week".

So that's it. The great rescue plan is a woman who can't even prepare herself by reading or even skimming notes, who is blind to someone saying they were in great distress and who interrupts someone part way through a sentence describing the frustration of not being heard.

We have sat lamenting what is supposed to happen now. Who do we turn to? What is the point. How can I believe my feelings that I don't matter and I'm unlovable are not true when we are abandoned as a family?

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