I have managed to get up and complete what are described in mental health circles in deliciously euphemistic terms as my hygeine goals. I have started higher doses of Citalopram today which I guess will take a while to kick in, but I am hoping that I will be moving to the right dosing soon if not now. I have been given what feels like the psychiatric equivalent of the Sacrament as well which is an extension to continue to take some more Diazapam - but in smaller doses and to be used at my discretion - oh the power. Diazapam is wonderful for me and is a real stress buster and less harmful, as a morbidly obese person than some sedatives which apparently put weight on. I did suggest the other day that around 1600 Diaz pills and an appointment in a year or so would be fine. It wasn't funny and it wasn't clever - I could almost see the unspoken thought bubble in the air. Still worth a try.
Sedatives are certainly not a good move when I am exercising and trying to remove some of my lard. So as The Big D is addictive - smaller doses and lots of trust and flexibility about how I use them is best of best news. I feel trusted. The aim will be an occasional pop rather than a daily conveyor belt of the drug. I need to begin to address the causes of the depression not just sit on it like some sort of precious golden egg which is all mine and I'd be lost without. I can then think with the professionals about how to alleviate the triggers and patterns of behaviour which have caused this. I must treat the anxiety and the depression as one. In my case my anxiety is the hand brake or self-protection mechanism, but it could potentially impede the productive growth that is often achieved when I start to feel a little better and am at last ready for a full psyche excavation. The psychiatric equivalent of four root canal treatments simultaneously without an anaesthetic. Worth it though. As I have felt transformation in the past I have felt like the rarest orchid blooming at Kew or a new species being discovered. I want to claim that I am beautifully and wonderfully made once again.
At last the sleeping pills are helping to return my night sleep to a pattern which has some refreshment implicit in it and this will, in time, remove some of the physical exhaustion and fear around even bothering to bed down properly for the night - if I suspect that for most of it I will be up and tight as a spring. I am sleeping longer and trying hard not to nap in the day unless I have had a very emotionally demanding session at the centre - or home. The Citalopram suits me and I haven't lost my sense of humour at all during this depressive episode - and that has been a huge blessing - for me - at least. Inner sub-personalities are returning and I am now beginning to think again and assess, argue and plan. Yippeee.
Read a job spec' this morning and actually felt interested and wanted to know more. This is an improvement on The Radio Times and the Freetoview menu. My faculties are returning even if my concentration could do with a new motherboard.
I am very, very humbled by the amount of support I am receiving. I am still a bit off talking on the phone for long and I am trying to prioritise. I will be slowly replying to e-mails and such because I am still needing to conserve some energy for therapy and I am emotionally still fairly shrivelled and shriven - it is essentially confessional and a process of accepting at the deepest level unconditional nurture. However in the weeks ahead we will be building the strategies which will help me to continue to identify potential incidents early, so that I can get interventions effectively and quickly in place. As well we will I hope spend some time resolving issues that I have not resolved satisfactorily in the past - so that these will not have the power to act as triggers for further episodes. This is very much like running an archeological dig - there are few signposts and some surprises once the process gets underway. We are also going to need to think about how I release anxiety and reduce stress, I guess. Ironically I have rarely, if ever found work stressful (more an escape) but a complex and highly demanding home life on top has taken me to the brink... One of the things I must learn is how to articulate my needs and be assertive about how they can be reasonably met. Part of that process involves ceasing to care quite so much what other people think of me. Why I bother so much has always defeated me rationally. Some of the people I love the most and would do absolutely anything for are the most fallible and overtly self-aware and genuinely vulnerable, reflective, with an inner emotional maturity that I am in awe of and would be horrified if they masked or faked their true uniqueness. I would die for them - for they hold vision, power, love and vision. So what's the problem?
If your a Hefflelump walk in a straight line; don't look back; less cause for anxiety and much more hope ahead.
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