I Think We Need a Bigger Boat

boatI found out today that my therapist and the nurse practitioner who provides my medication supervision are leaving to start a private practice of their own near Des Moines.

If you’re in the mental health delivery system, you’ve probably experienced this kind of trauma.  It takes years of searching to find a therapist who gets you, to find a psychiatrist or NP who works with you, only to have them leave, or the clinic closes, or whatever kind of insurance you have doesn’t work anymore.  The most essential piece of your recovery drops out of existence.  So you flounder, and in that vulnerable state, have to start searching all over again.

I’m lucky in that they will only be an hour away.  After talking with my therapist today, my plan is to stick with them if they can get Medicaid-certified.  Lots of “ifs.”  So, it doesn’t seem like such a big deal.  Except it is.

I hate how stuff like this confounds and unmoors me.  Even with a solution in sight, I feel hysteria crawling up my throat.  Just when my support system seemed to be jelling, just when it seemed safe to go back in the water…

I have to watch my catastrophizing—I see sharks when it might just be tuna.  I have to keep breathing.  I have to remember I’ll be fine no matter what happens.  I’ve been here before—back when my boat didn’t even have a motor.  So, I’m okay.  I just wish there wasn’t so much chum in the water around me.

bigger boat

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