I think, if I'm perfectly honest, that the time has come to accept that I might need some help with this.
There are only so many "Sorry, I've got a really nasty bug" or "Sorry, another migraine" excuses I can trot out before I'm rumbled and they realise that the reason I haven't been to work for three days is because I could not get out of bed.
I don't know which bit of what is affecting me the most and what to ask for help with, but right now I'm staring down a very long, very double-barreled black depression and it's not a fun place to be.
I don't know if it's chemical or reactive. I just know that staring blankly at the inside of my curtains all day every day is not normal and I am beginning to despise this place.
Will drugs help that?
Doubtful.
I hate drugs anyway.
I've never met an antidepressant that I've got on with, or rather, that my body has got on with; they are all far too agitating. Citalopram sent me flying into a manic episode and straight into hospital, resulting with six months on Valium to reverse the damage. Effexor had much the same effect, even at the lowest dose. The neurologist that attempted to treat my migraines wanted to try me on Amitriptyline, an older, non-SSRI AD. The list of side effects is horrendous, and I suspect it would have much the same effect as the others. Am I prepared to deal with that to try and climb out of this pit? I don't know. Is it the lesser of two evils? Again, I don't know.
I don't know what to do.
~
I feel as if don't have a friend in the world. Well, I do, but not here. Maybe it's true what they say about London, and maybe this is just a clear cut case of the loneliness of the city, eating me slowly from the inside out.
If I didn't have my cats to think about - oh god, I *am* crazy cat lady, aren't I? - I would, right now, tonight, pack a single bag, with enough clothes to get me where I'm going, my laptop and my phone, and just get on a train. Leave all my stuff here - I don't care about stuff anyway. Let the next person to live in this place have it. It'd make a nice home for someone - just not for me any more.
Worked for Stephen Fry... didn't it?
35 year old Londoner, agoraphobic, aims to dispel myths, write honestly, tell it like it is, and possibly entertain a little along the way. Writes a bit sometimes, too.
About Me
Archive
Where else is good?
6 comments:
Sending you hugs, hon. (And on a drugs-related note, it's amazing to know that someone else didn't get any help from Citalopram.) xx
Its a big step to know you may need some help, I hope you find the right solution that works for you :)
I have tried so many drugs over the years that made me worse or did nothing at all besided giving me the horrid sideaffects, but finally found the one that works the best so far.
My thoughts are with you :)
Ruby
I think you are wise to realize that you need some help with this depression. It is so hard on you. My thoughts are with you.
Where you are is where I've been, and many more of us too, and we can all relate to what you describe. It's so hard. Re drugs: I call it Shitalopram. It screwed me up too. There are alternatives to SSRIs and older style ADs but I share your anti-drug thing.
Your friends, wherever they may be, whether they are far away, online or not as far as you fear, all care about you. I don't know you well enough to be a real friend, but you are someone I'd be proud to have as one!
Just popped in to wish you a happy holiday season and to hope that things will improve for you in 2008.
Best wishes!
Hey there. You helped me find people who are now proving to be a massive support. I want to tell you how thankful I am you steered me in the right direction. And how I think of you often and hope you are feeling even just a little better.
Post a Comment