This morning I went to the Center for Mental Health (CSM). The Italian national health system set up these centress that care for patients with mental health issues and offer numerous services, from diagnosis to treatment and rehabilitation for psychiatric disorders.
For the past three years, I have relied on mental health professionals due to Long Covid. I regularly see a psychologist who supports me in coping with all the difficulties caused by the illness. There are moments when the pain for the loss of my “old self” rises powerfully and uncontrollably. It’s an endless grief; processing it is impossible. When I talk about it with my psychologist, I know I will receive positive feedback without any judgment.
Friends and relatives often struggle to find the right words: they approach the situation incorrectly, downplaying it, or they deny the issue and change the subject. The hour of therapy becomes a moment when I can connect with my most intimate self, guided by the psychologist who, like a modern-day Virgil, leads me through the most hidden circles of my subconscious.
I am also followed by a psychiatrist for pharmacological treatment. It is now established that Covid can cause neurological damage, manifesting through a series of disorders[i]: cognitive fatigue, brain fog, headaches, sleep disturbances, to name just a few. Adequate therapy is essential to manage these situations; I am grateful for the antidepressants that have allowed me not to go insane from the pain.
Unfortunately, these medications, in addition to having side effects, can result in positive drug test results during roadside checks: thanks to the new road code enacted by Salvini, I might face serious trouble. I already live in a condition on the edge of reality; now, I just need a lawsuit and losing my driving license!
So here I am in front of the Psychosocial Center (the Centre for Mental Health is called this in Lombardy, where I live). It’s a facility located in a peripheral area of the city, surrounded by fields and numerous trees that grow around the typical canals of my region.
I entered with a bit of anxiety: every time I attend a visit, a little anxiety rises. In the past, some doctors labeled me as a crazy visionary because they did not believe in Long Covid. The sensation I felt in those moments was horrible, and now, like a modern-day Pavlov’s dog, I instinctively feel apprehensive when approaching a medical facility.
In reality, I found a relaxed and friendly environment: unlike with the psychologist, I never felt uncomfortable while telling my medical history to the nurses and doctors who examined me. The psychiatrist who conducted the consultation was very kind and extremely professional. She listened to me for a long time and asked very precise questions to help her better understand my situation. She called my private psychiatrist and confirmed the diagnosis of depressive disorder due to another medical condition (Long Covid).
She cleared up some doubts about the invalidity request process, while she could not provide clear answers about the new road code, as the Ministry of Transport has not yet sent any clarifications regarding antidepressant medications (as usual, Salvini has shown himself to be strong against the weak and weak against the strong. Well done, Minister!).
I left the visit satisfied and happy to see that there are centers I can trust to address mental health issues.
I will instead have to wait before I can drive again. Minister Salvini, when are we going to wake up?!
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