You know things are bad when your doctor asks you to come back in again in two weeks.
My doctor was really sympathetic yesterday. I didn’t want to be at the doctors. I didn’t want to go anywhere. I still don’t. My medication has been increased to 40mg a day. I am being referred for CBT on the NHS. The NHS counselling is really not helping. Talking isn’t helping. I need more than just talking. I told my GP this.
Normally I am asked to come back in every four weeks when I am struggling. I was told to come back in two weeks. Maybe because I was honest and said that I am suicidal.
Trying to articulate what is going on in my head is a struggle. So I always come home after a GP appointment feeling quite emotional. Walter was in a funny mood when I got home from the doctors. He wouldn’t stop barking regardless of what I tried. I was at my wits end and ended up in tears. Pathetic huh?
Depression likes to tell me that I am shit at everything. The latest thing it likes to tell me is that Walter hates me and I’m shit with him.
I’m at the point I was at the beginning of the year. I don’t want to leave the house or do anything. I am still going the gym as much as my head tells me not to. I’m not getting much enjoyment out of it.
I’ve just got to keep going and believe that things will get better. Even if depression and anxiety like to tell me otherwise.