Am I eligible for free mental health care? How would I know?

Alice O'Keeffe's "Squeezed Middle" column.

‘‘So how long have you been having these irrational thoughts?” I pause to think this through. It’s important to give the correct answer. I have to strike just the right balance with the kind lady from the Mental Health Access Team who has phoned to assess me. If she thinks I’m not mentally unstable enough, she will not refer me for free counselling. If she thinks I’m too mentally unstable, she might call in the social and tell them to take my kids away. Would she actually do that? On balance, probably not. Nevertheless, I must tread carefully.
I immediately decide against the honest answer, which is that I don’t think my depression is “irrational” at all. It is based on hard facts, many of them scientifically provable. First, our flat is too small for a family of four. Second, there is now officially no chance of us ever being able to move out. Third, our joint incomings do not match our outgoings and we have no savings or pensions. Fourth, the government has no interest in making things better for families like us – or, indeed, anyone other than their Old Etonian buddies. Fifth, the destruction of the environment continues unchecked, with consequences that are likely to prove utterly disastrous for humanity within my children’s lifetime.
I’d argue, on balance, that this is reason enough to feel legitimately less than 100 per cent zip-a-dee-doo-dah. On the other hand, whatever your circumstances, your glass could always be half full. No doubt it is partly the way I am perceiving the difficulties which makes them feel insurmountable. If I were more of a can-do type of personality, I’d be out there doing a jolly tap-dance on the grave of Europe’s bee populations.
“It started a couple of months ago. The baby stopped sleeping. We were buying a house and then it fell through . . .” I give her the sorry list of symptoms: the exhaustion, the creeping insomnia, the almost constant snivelling. She sounds pleasingly concerned. This is going well.
“Any suicidal feelings?”
Gosh. Funnily enough I did catch myself lying in bed the other day, thinking how nice it would be never to have to get up ever again, never to have to deal with another unexpected bill or another broken night . . . but it was more an idle thought than an active planning-to-kill-myself thing. Does that count as suicidal? I’m not sure.
“No,” I say firmly. “Not at all.”
“Good,” she says briskly. “So what I’m going to do is recommend that you come in for a full assessment session with one of our mental health nurses. You should receive a letter in the post.”
“Great. Thank you.” Result! I can’t wait for them to make me better again. “And how long will it take to get the appointment?”
“It shouldn’t be more than six weeks.”
SIX WEEKS!!! I can’t wait six weeks. Curly is on the brink of disowning me. I’m on the brink of disowning myself. I take a deep breath. “Right. Well, thank you very much for your help.” As I hang up, the tears have already formed a puddle on the keypad.
Alice O'Keeffe's "Squeezed Middle" column appears weekly in the New Statesman.

Alice O'Keeffe is an award-winning journalist and former arts editor of the New Statesman. She now works as a freelance writer and looks after two young children. You can find her on Twitter as @AliceOKeeffe.

This article first appeared in the 19 August 2013 issue of the New Statesman, Why aren’t young people working

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The buck doesn't stop with Grant Shapps - and probably shouldn't stop with Lord Feldman, either

The question of "who knew what, and when?" shouldn't stop with the Conservative peer.

If Grant Shapps’ enforced resignation as a minister was intended to draw a line under the Mark Clarke affair, it has had the reverse effect. Attention is now shifting to Lord Feldman, who was joint chair during Shapps’  tenure at the top of CCHQ.  It is not just the allegations of sexual harrassment, bullying, and extortion against Mark Clarke, but the question of who knew what, and when.

Although Shapps’ resignation letter says that “the buck” stops with him, his allies are privately furious at his de facto sacking, and they are pointing the finger at Feldman. They point out that not only was Feldman the senior partner on paper, but when the rewards for the unexpected election victory were handed out, it was Feldman who was held up as the key man, while Shapps was given what they see as a relatively lowly position in the Department for International Development.  Yet Feldman is still in post while Shapps was effectively forced out by David Cameron. Once again, says one, “the PM’s mates are protected, the rest of us shafted”.

As Simon Walters reports in this morning’s Mail on Sunday, the focus is turning onto Feldman, while Paul Goodman, the editor of the influential grassroots website ConservativeHome has piled further pressure on the peer by calling for him to go.

But even Feldman’s resignation is unlikely to be the end of the matter. Although the scope of the allegations against Clarke were unknown to many, questions about his behaviour were widespread, and fears about the conduct of elections in the party’s youth wing are also longstanding. Shortly after the 2010 election, Conservative student activists told me they’d cheered when Sadiq Khan defeated Clarke in Tooting, while a group of Conservative staffers were said to be part of the “Six per cent club” – they wanted a swing big enough for a Tory majority, but too small for Clarke to win his seat. The viciousness of Conservative Future’s internal elections is sufficiently well-known, meanwhile, to be a repeated refrain among defenders of the notoriously opaque democratic process in Labour Students, with supporters of a one member one vote system asked if they would risk elections as vicious as those in their Tory equivalent.

Just as it seems unlikely that Feldman remained ignorant of allegations against Clarke if Shapps knew, it feels untenable to argue that Clarke’s defeat could be cheered by both student Conservatives and Tory staffers and the unpleasantness of the party’s internal election sufficiently well-known by its opponents, without coming across the desk of Conservative politicians above even the chair of CCHQ’s paygrade.

Stephen Bush is editor of the Staggers, the New Statesman’s political blog.