Found myself spontaneously breaking into a grin as I walked to work this morning – it has, sadly, been a while since that last happened.
But it’s progress, and progress helped significantly by a visit to my GP last night to discuss what’s been happening to me of late.
The headlines on that front are the anti-depressants he prescribed me, as expected.
The backstory is that, well, two things really.
One. He was a really good GP – a credit to the NHS. We chatted about why I’d been so down and how I’d been trying to help myself. He was polite, attentive and sympathetic, didn’t rush me and made the decision to go with a small dose of anti-depressants only after being pretty sure that they seemed an appropriate response in this case.
Two. I haven’t started taking the anti-depressants yet but already feel a weight lifted off my shoulders because action is being taken. Before this I was floundering, unsure what to do, where to look for a solution, and – worse still – aware that this problem was being left unaddressed and was likely to get worse.
I love solving problems – am seldom happier or more creative than when struggling to get to grips with a question or figuring out the best way to reach a goal.
It mostly doesn’t matter what the goal is, so long as I’m interested in the method and care about the outcome. In fact it’s noticeable that my favourite jobs in the past – the ones where I’ve both enjoyed myself and done some good work – have been those where the company did something that (IMHO) was worthwhile, and where I felt responsible for a part of that something. Which is also why I currently volunteer for BLISS and used to teach at a Saturday School in Peckham – to help people.
Where was I? Ah, yes – my own personal problems.
Simply beginning to address the problem of my own emotional state has given me a big lift. Knowing that there’s something that can be done about it, that I now have a plan – that I’m not powerless – has already helped bring that unexpected smile to my face this morning. 🙂
This morning feels like a small turning point, as though the fightback has begun.
And even though the “Battle of Trev’s Death” is (like the War on Terror) a war that cannot be won, it’s also a battle that I can’t afford to lose.
Four hours at work and idealistic thoughts of “a small turning point” have faded, I’m afraid. Faded but not gone completely – I am still trying very very very hard to stay calm. But I assume that’s what the anti-depressants will help with…
In the meantime: deep breaths, cup of tea, remember that this too will pass, etc.