> "Some of the help and therapy I eventually received was excellent, but as much as my recovery was supported by the NHS, it was also fuelled by my determination never to have to rely on it again."<p>When I read this line, it hit home. I've been in and out of NHS treatment for years for other (not anorexia) issues. I never ever want to rely on the NHS again. They failed me so much I now avoid having to interact with anyone in the medical field. I deliberately avoid going to my GP for anything. Mental health care in the UK is so bad that you really wouldn't believe without first-hand experience. It needs to be scrapped and started again. I don't want to rant here on Hacker News too much (almost never comment) but this hit a nerve and I'm angry just thinking about the mental health care the NHS pretends to provide.
To play a bit of devil's advocate here:<p>At what point does a socialised health service with limited resources, stop providing care for "self-inflicted" injuries?<p>In a busy hospital, the doctors have to triage and make priority decisions over where to apply resources and who to treat first.<p>Much like an alcoholic would never be at the top of a liver transplant list, at what point would an anorexic - who in this case had already been through over 30 mental health sessions - start to be denied care? At what point is it more ethical to spend those resources treating someone else, who might actually respond to treatment?<p>Again, just playing devil's advocate here. My personal opinion is that the NHS is critically underfunded at the moment and that should be fixed first. But I thought it worth pointing out the ethical debate over treating self-inflicted injuries in a socialised healthcare system is quite tricky. Especially considering that almost all mental health issues can fall under "self-inflicted" if you want to be callous.
It's desperately under-funded:<p>"The hospital itself was old and seemed to be in the process of being shut down around us. Half the wards were empty, including the one opposite – a strange sight to those of us who had nearly died waiting for a bed. In winter, when it was too cold to be taken to ‘the bench’, we would instead be taken down another, deserted corridor, to sit for 15 minutes in a disused waiting room. When the five-bed rehabilitation house for patients leaving the inpatient unit was threatened with closure, doctors started to send patients there at a lower weight than advised, to secure its funding. Funding applications had to be made for each patient every two weeks, and I remember at least one patient being discharged suddenly and prematurely, because she had reached a weight beyond which her Primary Care Trust wouldn’t pay for treatment. Others, including me, had to prove that we weren’t ‘chronic’ cases and therefore worth funding. "
> (...) the overstretched staff didn’t have much time to support me, and I was often left crying on my own. Sometimes my tears were taken as evidence of ‘non-compliance’.<p>This, on its own, is already outrageous. What could lead to forming this kind of attitude?