Well firstly, this year has been totally crap. In someways that word is mild in comparison to what I could have used but here we are.

Not really ready to go into the ins and outs of what has been happening from the start of the year but mark my words – I will be in a good headspace soon to talk about that.

Then we lost our precious boy Billy. My heart is broken and it’ll take some time to heal, but I know it won’t heal fully. It never will. Both Billy and Max have left such a huge void in our hearts. Though I did find it pretty incredible who supported us throughout this, and very interesting as to who didn’t. It isn’t something I will forget. That being said it is still incredibly raw to talk about – even nearly 3 months later.

The one thing I am ready to talk about however is my ongoing therapy battle. You might remember in my previous post I mentioned about the facilitator who claimed he knew me? If not you can read about it here.

So this guy, let’s call him SR – I have no problem naming the guy but I don’t know if I can get into trouble for that so we’ll stick to SR for now. So SR said there was a conflict of interest because he knew me. He didn’t. I totally understand the whole conflict of interest rules and such but this was absolutely pathetic. Let’s go back around 10 years (could even be more) but SR was at university, he had a partner at the time who was at the same university. She studied the same course as my brother. SR did not. Now I do not know if SR is still with this partner – he might well be or he might not?! It might have even been a quick uni romance, or maybe they are married now?! Who knows?! I certainly don’t know because I do not know him.

Now time has passed and as far as I am aware SR and my brother wasn’t besties, they are friends on social media but I don’t recall them meeting up and hanging out through the years. I know of a lot of my bro’s friends but I don’t ever really recall SR being mentioned, or in pics, or anything tbh.

SR didn’t even go to my brother’s wedding. SR last wished my brother happy birthday YEARS ago. (Yes, I checked). But according to him he knew me and therefore it wouldn’t be fair to continue. Now a lot of questions and thoughts went through my mind but the main two were;

1. Surely the person who is best to decide what is best for me is….. myself?!
2. My name has changed since he was at uni with my brother – so how was he sure I was me?!

When I say I fought for this therapy I mean I fully fought for it, suit of armour, shields the lots. I was prepared and I was ready. Even now, I won’t let it drop. I question how you can possibly really despise someone you have never met? But I do. I despise SR for denying me my right for therapy. A therapy that I completed half of and was doing really well at. SR didn’t know me, hadn’t met me, but yet he had the ‘right’ to decide that he wouldn’t have me in the therapy. Where did that leave me and my mental health?

I even read about the correct procedures in terms of conflict of interest and so on. It did state about if you know someone well – but it also said that if you’re likely to go into a relationship with that person then it also factored in. So was SR a bit concerned he would want a relationship with me? Even though we have never met, and he doesn’t know me. Was he worried that he felt he might go and tell my brother stuff? Even though he isn’t close friends with my brother. Surely all this makes him, SR, questionable.

Makes you wonder doesn’t it? I’ve even spoken with professionals in the mental health field and they agree with me – they do not see why I was denied the therapy. They certainly do not understand why SR got to make that decision. This gives me some relief, albeit it doesn’t help – it at least makes me feel like I’m not crazy and I am right about this.

After a lengthy battle it is agreed that I can have the therapy on a one to one basis, not ideal but okay it is better than nothing.

It was going well, which is always scary because usually when things go well it ain’t long before something comes along and ruins it.

The ‘rock of ruin’ has been pushed down the mountain, slowly crumbling away as it rolls down. Destroying little bits on its journey. Me? I’m already climbing up this mountain, I’m doing quite well until I spot in the distance the rock of ruin coming towards me. There’s nowhere to go other than back down and I don’t want to do that, but if I stay where I am the rock is going to hit me and knock me down anyway. I can’t continue going up because I don’t stand a chance against this rock.

So I cling on to my surroundings, my nails are bruised from being used to doing this – clinging on. I’m back here again though, clinging on. The pain is intense in my fingers, but I’m kinda used to this, clinging on.

Clinging on, clinging on, holding my grip tighter.

I just need to hold on for a little longer and hopefully the rock of ruin will bypass me. If it does – I can start my climb again and continue up the mountain.