Saturday, August 13, 2011


Sooo... let's just call the last five (or so) weeks a mental health hiatus, shall we?

I knew my depression was back. I tried to deny it. But it was due to some severe prodding from my friend Allison, requests from Matt, and some very wise words from Nettie, that I took the plunge and went to the doctor about it.

I told her of the situation - that I was apathetic, that I'd had an emotional breakdown at work, that I'd tried the CBT techniques and they weren't doing anything. And I told her that, more than anything, I was very very scared because I could almost feel the cutting. That I haven't self-harmed in about five (or more) years but I was really, really tempted.

And she said that she thought I needed help.
So, I've been on the anti-depressants for four weeks now.

Guess what?
Well, I'm still not 100%, but I have the urge to write again. I am not just animated when other people are around as an automatic thing, but I really feel that way. For really real. I'm drawing again. I can genuinely feel optimistic.

Cliche time!
It actually does feel like I've come out from under a cloud. And whilst it may not be all sunshine and rainbows and kittens and unicorns, it's the sort of blustery, cold day that I love.
And that works for me.

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