Coffee and Citalopram.

I went to see the doctor yesterday following my realisation last week.  Over the weekend, I started to doubt whether I even needed to go and see the doctor.  My mood had gotten slightly better over the weekend and the sun had been shining.  I’d just been having a bad week, right?  I almost caved and cancelled it, but I knew that I should probably just go and talk to someone at least.  I felt sick as a dog the whole journey there.  I took my book with me to read in the waiting room, although I’m not sure why I bothered because I’ve been reading that same book since October last year.  I haven’t been able to concentrate on it for so long.  Surprisingly, I didn’t have to wait for long before my name was called.  He was a polite, smiling man and showed me into his office and asked me to sit down.

“So, how can I help?”

Hmm.  I’m not even sure how to answer that or how to begin my opening line.  I’d spent all weekend rehearsing it.  I seemed to have forgotten my lines.  Where’s my prompter when I need them?

“I’ve been suffering with low mood and anxiety for quite a while.”  I got that line from my sister.  She told me how I should open up.  It worked.

I was shaking when I said it, and it wasn’t long before I was passed the tissues and the floodgates opened.  Poor doc, I’m sure he wasn’t expecting this mess on his 12 minute appointment with me.  I was given a questionnaire to complete and the score would determine just where I fall on the “depression scale”.  I’ve come away with counselling, a referral to a psychiatrist and some pills.  Well, one week’s worth of pills at a time.  To prevent overdose.

Close friends who know keep telling me how proud they are of me, but if it wasn’t for them then I wouldn’t have made the call.

I took my first pill this morning.  So far, it has made me feel nauseous and headachey but I’m told that it will take a few days for that to fade.  And it will take several weeks before these pills really start to make a difference.  What I’m most worried about is that the side affects will become apparent in my behaviour at work and I don’t want that at all.  But what I do want is to document this part of my journey.  I hope that someone who is struggling in life will read this and realise that it’s okay to admit defeat sometimes.  Actually, it’s not defeat.  It’s the start of feeling better.

Signing off for now.

With love, Darling Soul x