So yesterday I made a doctors appointment.
I was sat at the table with Betsy having her lunch, but mentally I wasn't there. My head was a mess, I was a mess. I was on the verge of tears. And I didn't know why. Betsy was chattering away to me, offering my bits of chewed up food and I was looking right through her, not registering what she was doing, not being the Mummy she deserved. I couldn't carry on like this. I picked up my phone and rang the doctors there and then, before I could back out. I told the receptionist I needed to speak to a doctor, I was struggling to cope and I had a 15 month old daughter to take care off. She was lovely and told me the duty doctor would ring me within the hour. Luckily, the duty doctor was my doctor, so I was relieved about this.
20 minutes later the phone rang. I fought back the tears as I tried to explain how I was feeling and what was going on. She made me an appointment to come in today at 8.30am. I felt relieved that I had finally acknowledged I wasn't ok, but scared about what was going to happen.
Ashley came with me. I knew he needed to come, as I knew I would not be able to say what needed to be said. I find it so hard to talk about it to another person, even to Ashley. Which may surprise some people because I am quite 'open' on my blog. I'm not sure why this is. I just feel so much more comfortable writing it all down.
So my appointment. I am so very glad Ashley came, because just as I thought I would, I sat there feeling a bit sad and pathetic, unable to speak. I didn't feel like a 25 year old mother of one. I felt like a child. My doctor asked what I found tough, I said everything. Because it is everything. Mainly it is my daughter, but this is only because she is who I spend the most time with. But it is even the little things, like getting up and having a shower in the mornings.
We spoke about my medication and increasing the dosage. I told her that I was concerned about never being able to come off of them. I really do not want to be on them forever. Although as she and countless others have said to me, depression is an illness. Tablets are used to help treat it in the same way they are used to help treat Asthma and other things. I don't know why I feel so sad about the idea of having my dosage increased. But that was the outcome. We discussed how I noticed the difference in myself when I started taking them around 6 months ago, and we agreed that it was probably the best thing to do. So I am now on 40mg rather then 20mg.
She also spoke to me again about trying 'talking therapies'. Something which if I am honest I am not sure is for me. As I said I find it incredibly difficult to open up, regardless of who the person is. I tried it a few years ago when I first started experiencing depression, and lasted about 3 sessions before I stopped going. I just didn't find it helpful. However, by not doing this I feel like I am not doing all that I can to help myself. My top priority above all else is to be a happy mummy for Betsy. So I feel like I need to try everything that is available to me in order to achieve this.
So that's it. I will see how I get on with my increased dosage. I have to ring my doctor back in a few weeks to let her know how I am. I thought I would write this post because a few lovely people had wished me luck with my appointment and I felt like I needed to let them know how it went. I am so grateful for people's comments and messages. When I am having a bad day it feels like I am so isolated, so alone, such a waste. The only person experiencing this. So it is so nice to know that actually, that isn't the case at all.