I haven't been this angry in a very long time.
Long term readers will remember this but I will set the stage: September 2006, I had just been diagnosed with THAT. It was a horrific diagnosis as the only person I knew with it was my birth mother, who had a life of chaos and brought death and pain to all she touched. I did not want that to be me so I was eager to start a treatment plan.
Everything I read (and I read a lot including a horrible book about some dude's suicidal depression my sister sent me for some God-awful reason) said I would need a prescribing doctor and medication. But, as now, I was uninsured.
So we did some research and found out that Harris County had a mental health department (the exact name doesn't matter). They could help, I just had to bring various documents, fill out an application, submit to an interview, and they would review my case. If I fell under Schizophrenic, Bipolar, or Depression they would take me as a patient and I would pay a reduced fee. It was a ways off but we could do it with paratransit.
Ron was incredibly supportive at this time and would have done anything to see me smile again. So we set up the appointment. They made me wait weeks. **I brought the proof of income, social security, and ID card. I filled out a detailed form with my medical history, date of birth, etc. ** They had all the documentation they needed.
The waiting room had misbehaving children running wild and screaming, my aunt later said maybe the parents couldn't get a baby sitter. It was very chaotic. I was, myself, quite ill and not at my best and the kids made it very edgy.
Then some turkey pulls the fire alarm and we had to evacuate. The staff were on one side of the building and we patients were on the other, made sense I guess. I finally got back in there and did my interview. **I gave my complete personal and family history, holding nothing back.**
We left and went home. They said they would call; they didn't. Ron called them and ***they told him they had lost my file I would have to redo everything***. I said [censored] that and we found my doctor.
It was pretty much the worst experience a person in crisis could have. It's a miracle I didn't suicide out of that.
It gets better. Today I got a letter from these turkeys saying they had a data breach (I thought they lost my file!) and ALL my information was taken including my diagnosis, social security number, birthday was all stolen - back in MAY. They realized MY data was gone 2 months ago and are just now getting to me.
I am livid. Go back and read the starred stuff then come back. I am so angry I want to vomit.
This agency has betrayed my trust again and again. No wonder so many people refuse to get treatment.
That's it for now.
Edit to add: I did have a good experience with the mental health crisis team, and their 800 number. But I'm still pissed.