Making progress, slowly.

Apologies for the lack of blog posts over the past week. I’ve kind of gone from posting 5 days a week to posting absolutely nothing. It has been a particularly trying week though this week. My partner had to be admitted to hospital for yet another operation on Tuesday so my focus has really been on getting through that and trying to stay in as stable a mental state as possible in order to provide as much support as possible. I’m actually kind of proud of myself for managing to keep it together this time as all the other times that she has had to undergo surgery I’ve pretty much fallen apart and not coped. The stress and worry of the situation, not to mention the countless hours of waiting around usually sends my state of mind crashing to the ground and my depression and anxiety levels reaching for the skies.

But I coped, and that’s the main thing. I think my current combination of Citalopram and Quetiapine may have had a hand in that somewhere. I’ve certainly been feeling much more level over the past week or so since I made the move from prolonged release Venlafaxine to the aforementioned mixture. It’s only today really that my mind-state has taken a bit of a nosedive. But that’s mainly because I’ve been forcing myself to face issues such as my finances head on.  That’s the problem with having been off of work for such a long time. Money, or the lack of it becomes a bit of an issue.

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Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

The thing is though that you’re being told you need to take a certain amount of time off to get better, and you mustn’t work at all during that time, but you’ve still got exactly the same amount of bills to pay. Benefits, particularly the new poorly thought out Universal Credit doesn’t help so you end up paying for everything with credit. Overdrafts, credit cards and loans. You don’t particularly want to use them but you just don’t have any other choice. It’s either that or lose your home and everything that you’ve worked so hard for when you were well just because your mental health has waved a little white flag and given up the ghost.

It’s like you’re being punished for suffering with an illness. That doesn’t seem fair to me.

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I’m proud of myself for not completely falling to pieces this afternoon though and reaching for something sharp like I normally would. Even though the urge was there when my mood dipped, as strong as it ever has been I was able to talk myself out of it. My plan being that if I actually went to grab a sharp object I would immediately call The Samaritans and get them to talk me down. It’s nice to feel like I’ve got that safety net there should things ever get particularly bad and I don’t feel any fear of speaking to them now that I’ve made the dreaded first call.

Anyway, I’m still on course to return to work, albeit part-time in 6 weeks, and I’m starting a course of Cognitive Behavioural Therapy next week as well. So despite my dip this afternoon I feel like I am making significant progress.

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