Monday, 23 March 2009

Golden Age of my Negative Ways...


It's a been a little while since I've last blogged anything, mainly because I'm not always sure what to blog about. I've been reading some other awesome blogs recently, (which I follow), and the quality and passion of the writing makes me doubt my validity and ability to say anything worthwhile and sometimes anything at all.

I know this speaks volumes about my levels of self confidence and and trust in my ability to string together a coherent sentence, so maybe thats what I should address in these blurb filled nonsense bytes...

Anyone who knows me well, will probably agree that I can be a pain in the backside, frustrating and sometimes wholly deserving of a smack around the head... And they're right. I'm all of those things although not deliberately. I'm also aware of those things and I'm trying to do something about it.

Last week I went to my first serious session of CBT with an NHS Councillor. CBT, for people who don't know, is Cognative Behavioral Therapy. And It's used to try and change the thought processes in people who tend to spiral into a negative state of mind. The aim is to try and associate behavior that can trigger an incident, be it bursting into tears, losing ones rag, or just becoming insular and enclosed.

Several years ago, I was very poorly. I don't really need to go into anymore details, but I spent some time in hospital, a lot of time signed off sick and despite it seeming like it or not, I was quite close to the edge... My life had become rubbish, I wasn't going out much, I missed a few really big events in my friends lives which I could never really bring myself to explain properly, and generally falling apart. Lots of my family and friends kept telling how good I was at being strong, but to me, I wasn't.

Since then, I've never been quite right... There's been something lurking deep in my psyche which I couldn't identify and this has caused a few issues, which although I've vaguely acknowledged in the past, I've never really looked at addressing. I can't explain why. Perhaps I had a fear of finding out I was far more screwed up than I thought, or perhaps I was worried that people would accuse me of faking, or just being a wuss.

Recently a string of small events has convinced me to face up to these issues and to try and get it sorted. This has lead me to the few revelations below:

I don't like the word depression. It's become a stereotype for people with stressful lives to be signed off with depression. It sounds so vague and always like a bit of a cop out. Unfortunately the english language has yet to define an all encompassing word to describe how one can a malaise of the soul and not be sure why, so, depression it is. I suffer from Depression, and I do regularly have bouts where I become miserable, depressed and grumpy for no real reason.

There I've said it.

I am taking anti-depressants to help me whilst I'm undergoing therapy. I've found it difficult to tell people this, and it's been quite liberating when I have told people. When I told my Mum I was worried who she'd react, I thought I'd failed her by not being happy and healthy. And of course she only only showed concern and love for me! I now know that taking anti-depressants isn't bad, or wrong and doesn't make me crazy and close to going loopy, and then turning green and preceding to yell HULK SMASH whilst flipping tanks and things into the air.

Thats another thing I haven't said, and now have.

I think I'll leave it there for today. I'll follow up how things are going... Also I'd be interested to see if anyone has a comment about any of the things i've addressed above, so please post up comments here.

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