It’s rare I blog on my phone but sometimes it’s a relief to be able to have an outlet for my thoughts while on the hoof.
As I write, I’m on a train to that there London to attend a meeting and let’s be frank: train journeys en seule are dull. So a little futz around the old Instagram helps pass the time, catch up with lovely photos etc and just while away the miles. A photo popped up with a caption; this lady is struggling mentally. She’s not feeling like she’s coping and wants to run away.
We’ve interacted on occasion and I left a quick note. I suggested that a chat with her gp might help. I didn’t advocate drugs, more that her primary care physician (as gp’s are in the UK) might be able to refer to talking therapy. I’m aware they might also suggest a drug to help still the racing mind and allow a bit of stability. I’m also aware that a prescription isn’t a cure all and that even if they offered one, that person isn’t under any obligation to take the pills if they don’t want to. It’s an option. A personal choice.
What I didn’t expect was the anti-doctor sentiment, the view that the doctors are in cahoots with the Big Pharma demons and they are out to put everyone under a chemical blanket.
I’m aware that the drugs I take work for me. For ME. They might not work for everyone. Talking helped me. ME. Not everyone.
When will people accept that some people need the drugs and others don’t? But that seeking advice from your gp isn’t a simple case of swallowing pills. Doctors are there to help, to advise and to provide counsel. Talking to them is vital if we want their help…drugs or no drugs.