Alternative title: Sometimes the most difficult thing is saying “I need help”…
I’m shaking, I’m crying, I can’t breathe, I’m terrified…I feel as though I’m drowning…My words fall from my mouth in heaved gasps as I try to explain how I feel, but I can’t seem to describe it. They seem lost, confused. I sniffle and wipe snot on my hoodie and try to catch my breath.
I feel stupid for being here…I apologise…
“You don’t need to apologise” he says as he pushes the tissues towards me.
“We need to work towards a solution” he says as he smiles gently.
“But first you need to know what you’re facing…” he says as he places his hands together.
“And what’s that exactly?” I whisper.
“Anxiety Disorder and Depression” he says.
I’ve spoken on the blog before about my problems with Anxiety…But over recent months it’s been spiraling. Becoming more and more unmanageable until I found myself asking my GP for help, my brain trying to talk me out of the appointment as I sat waiting for my name to be called in the reception area…Trying to convince me that nothing was wrong, that my panicking over the daftest things (i.e. crying over toast!) was perfectly normal. That my obsessive behaviours were just control mechanisms I used to cope with a bit of stress. That it didn’t warrant taking up the 10 minute time slot I had been allocated.
My brain was wrong.
“We’ll do a two pronged approach – medication and counselling” the doc said scribbling out a prescription.
I just nodded.
As I left the surgery I decided that I shouldn’t hide this experience, I shouldn’t hide the diagnosis…Family, friends, colleagues all know what I’m going through (those were difficult conversations, not as difficult as saying “I need help” to a medical professional though). I did this so they would understand why I was a bit out of sorts, I did this so that they would understand that I needed time to heal, I did this so they would understand that I was not ashamed by it (as I’ve already been told I should be).
For the most part people have been supportive…There are, of course, people who treat you as though you have the plague but I’ve found they are few and far between.
My initial counselling assessment confirmed the GP’s diagnosis…My name was added to the waiting list for therapy (I’m still on the waiting list for therapy).
I was signed off work for a little while (as I reacted quite badly to the first set of meds) and took the opportunity to go on a hiatus from the blog and social media…It was quite a welcome break. It was a lot of necessary me time. As such I’ve decided to update this blog once a week (Tuesdays) – with sporadic posts on Thursdays – and will probably have a reduced presence on social media while I focus on the journey ahead, so please bear with me.
I’m back at work now that I’m settled on new meds and (for the moment) I’m feeling strong…