You may have seen last week that I had a huge breakdown and have fallen into the big black hole again.
Where you just can’t see the future in front of you. Sometimes you don’t want to see the future in front of you. Sounds harsh, but sometimes it’s oh so true – that’s what it does to you.
Anyway, I digress.
After the breakdown, we saw it was a cry for help and I made a doctors appointment. I knew what I was going for, and that was anti-depressants. I was adamant that I wanted them, and when she asked what I was there for, that was the first thing I said at the same time as bursting into tears. It was inevitable.
I was in there for ages. So many questions – just get on with it already and give me them. Please! She could see that I just wanted a prescription and to get out but it was kind of like background noise to me – I was zoning out.
I had to do the depression questionnaire again. I got a score of 19 which is classed as ‘moderately severe’. I had told her that I wanted to kill myself. But she didn’t think I needed AD’s. Counselling would do the job. (As well as other options to work through, e.g. getting out a bit more – easier said than done with sky high anxiety too).
I was jittery. I had counselling before and it did help, for a while. But I still had to go on AD’s afterwards. So I didn’t want to go through the same routine again. Easy option? Maybe. But right now, I will do anything.
She could tell I wanted them. Needed them? In the end she asked what I’d rather do. Well obviously, I said AD’s and I would try counselling as well too, alongside the other suggestions. So she gave me a prescription and she also gave me the number of the crisis team, just in case I ever feel like doing something like *that* again. I have to go back in a couple of weeks for a review. Obviously I’m not sure where I’ll be at right then.
I hate this.
I hate this, so much.