Weird things have been going on lately. People close to me know about my reluctance to verbally speak about my feelings and shit, It has something to do with having penis I guess. Anyhow, this past Thursday, I had a personal matter to attend to (and can’t speak about it just yet) and had to go get a sick note so the bastards at the sweatshop won’t pop a nut because i didn’t go to work. I decided, spontaneously that I would talk about my depression, since I didn’t have money for a doctor’s consultation, I went to a public health facility instead. Bad idea. You’ve heard about the horror of our public health system right, It’s all true, thankfully I was at the clinic and not a state hospital were the service is a thousand times shittier.
So I arrived at the clinic at about 11h15, registered, and got my medical file. I was sent to the first of three waiting rooms, were I sat on a wooden bench for two hours before the nurse who does the first pre-screenings got to us. The nurse sits a few steps from the last row, and she asks every patient what illness they have, so she knows whether to send them at the second waiting room or straight allocation. There are a few privacy concerns there, the patients sitting on the last row can hear everything so they get to know what disease you have. which isn’t kosher at all.
At any rate, I told her what’s bugging me and luckily, I was sent straight to allocation, were they took my weight and I had the pleasure of realizing that I had lost 15 kg’s this year (umm…w00t?). Anyways to cut a long boring ass story short, I got referred to a Mental Health Department of another public health facility around our area. I’ve been placed on a waiting list for psycho-therapy or whatever, I’ll see how it goes.