Day 6 of the 40mg Citalopram Challenge

and I have three words to describe how I feel at the moment: low, tired and low. I had a couple of late nights over the weekend, although I slept in and feel I did rather well at the whole "getting back to sleep after waking too early" thing both Saturday and Sunday morning.

I have smoked weed this weekend and I'm tempted to place some of the blame for feeling low on that - I've noticed something of a pattern with smoking and feeling low a day or so later, which is one of the reasons I decided to stop. This weekend was a watershed - I baked the majority of the weed I had left in a lovely cheddar and oregano bread and took it over to my friend's house on Friday. I gave what was left and all my rolling papers to my friends and had a fantastic night Friday, another on Saturday and a great day yesterday, seeing lots of lovely people, getting involved, playing with kids and dogs and adults alike. It was lovely.

Now it's back to the daily realities of getting up for work, I just feel a bit pants. I had fantasies while falling asleep last night that I was working in a school and helping corral children back into the building after break. Waking up this morning with the knowledge I'd be sat in front of this screen in a boring office was not a good start to the day. I'm not surprised by this contrast in mood really - with such a lovely weekend, coming back down to earth is a bit of a shit.

Also, it's grey. This is supposed to be summer, for fuck's sake. I even considered wearing a coat today, it's that shit out there. At least it's not still hammering it down with rain, but my god I could do with a few days of prolonged sunshine. And a break, a holiday. More than two or three days off anyway, some time to get away from work and home and just have some time to myself. At least two or three times this past fortnight I've considered ditching work at short notice, or taking a sudden half-day, because I just want to vegetate or walk or sleep or cook or do something other than work.

*mutters*

Anyway, stuff to look forward to... possible walk on Thursday evening, depends what the weather's doing. I'd like to try and walk more, but this weather simply isn't inspirational. Stuff at the weekend - not sure whether there's a walk in there but my friends have a house-warming/baby-welcoming thing on Saturday so I may try and fit one around that. I thought about maybe borrowing the money to pay for my plane ticket to Australia but I'm not sure I feel up to asking today. I'll think it through more and make a decision over the next couple of days.

C'mon drugs, level me out some please. I know the increase in Citalopram and cutting out the weed will make a huge difference, I'm just getting impatient now.

Day 2 of the 40mg of Citalopram Challenge

and I've obviously started taking 40mg instead of the 20mg I was originally prescribed. I feel utterly shit and have done for more than a week now. My motivation to do anything whatsoever has diminished almost completely, I've been sleeping more and more, increasingly drawn to bed and darkness and audiobooks for escape. I'm getting very little pleasure from day-to-day things and I'm having to make a big effort to get out of my shell and do things that I know will please me.

Each time I've visited my GP since I started taking them, she's asked if I feel like I need an increase in dose. Yesterday and today I doubled my dose to 40mg, and today I've booked a telephone consultation with my doctor to see if she'll write me a prescription for the larger dose of citalopram. It worked a treat last time and I'm hoping it'll have the same levelling effect this time. I'll be sure to keep an eye on the side-effects and positive effects over the next four weeks.

I can't say for sure what's brought on this change. I've felt overloaded a little, I've not really had access to an outlet to splurge. I'm hoping to get some stuff off my chest this weekend when I meet up with old friends, both of whom I know are supportive and good at listening, and who'll take an interest in what I've got going on. We've not seen each other for a couple of years so we'll have plenty to share and I'm really looking forward to it!

More as it happens.

Feeling shitty today and yesterday

and I don't really know why. I want to spend a little while now probing where it's come from to see if I can get to the bottom of it. I'm feeling pretty sorry for myself and I dislike it - it's affected my mood, motivation, sleep and general wellbeing and I want to see if there's something fundamental causing it so I can aim to get back on my feet.

I know I'm overloaded, I can feel it. After work yesterday I spent half an hour on the phone supporting my mum. It's a strange thing, this reversal of roles. It's hard, very hard, not least because I appear to be the only person willing and able to give a reasonably honest and clear view of the whole situation she's in. I feel like I should say "NO! I don't have the capacity to take this on right now!" and in a way I have - I have insisted she see a counsellor, lean on her support workers and call The Samaritans if she needs to offload. I haven't gone as far as saying "I can't help" because I know for sure she's depending on me, but much more and I'll have to make a point of explaining my limitations.

I'm close to booking my ticket to Australia. This is very, very exciting but I'm rather anxious about it. It's a lot of money. It's a huge commitment for the household, for Sophie, for me, Tess and Tess's family. So much rides on all this, but it's a definite "go". I've just emailed and asked my friend for some money back that I lent him and his family so I've got enough in the bank to book the ticket. It may be the case that I can have it back straight away, or I might have to wait a couple of weeks. Either way, I'm looking forward to booking it as it puts the seal on six months of planning and hope, it sets the dates for my trip and lets me focus on saving spending money for the journey and my five weeks away from work.

Blah. Stumbling over words and distracting myself. Not getting anywhere with this. Maybe I'll try again later.

Something of a revelation today

when writing about my past addiction to chatting on the internet. A group started up again on Facebook for the old talker I used to hang around on - lots of old names, faces, friends and memories were brought up. Someone posted a very poignant and heartfelt story about their experience with the talker as an escape from depression and anxiety and I really identified with it, so I replied:

How thoroughly well put. This rings so many bells with me - I wasn't really in a good place when I started using the talker and it was a wonderful escape from all the shit that was going on at the time. I became thoroughly addicted, talked through work all day and screwed my job up over a number of years. As with you, it didn't start my depression but as an addiction that compounded the problem, I'd compare it to alcohol and many drugs in the way it can take over your mind. When work eventually caught me I was so relieved I cried my heart out, told them how thoroughly addicted I was and asked for help. They were great about it as a few of them knew about my situation outside work. They took me to a doctor who I poured my heart out to. I said "I'm addicted to chatting on the internet". He laughed. I've never forgotten that response, that medical professional who laughed in my face when I asked for help.

Fortunately I've broken away from depression over the past three or four years... mostly. I had a relapse at the start of this year but on the right track again. I've started a charity which takes people with low-level mental health issues out for country walks and listening and I'm about to start training as a counsellor, perhaps as a reaction to the doctor who laughed at me. Thanks, Dr Powrie, thanks for giving me an ultimate direction.

I'd not previously made the link between that event and my desire to move into counselling and help people. Adler helped me see the link - he had a bad experience with a medical professional and it drove him to be the best doctor and psychologist he could be, it moved him to altruism and the promotion of holistic therapy.

The image of the doctor laughing in my face, the feeling of disappointment, of a breach of trust, has popped into my mind occasionally over the past thirteen or fourteen years. I was amazed that someone who'd been through so much medical training and had been in practice for so many years could be so insensitive, even if the problem was entirely new to him. I'd spent months, maybe even up to a year, tied up tight in a definite addiction to online chat, and he laughed at me. I felt like a freak, like I'd done something wrong, like I was weak or incorrect or just plain stupid. I've never forgiven him for making me feel like that, it was deplorable and he was unprofessional and, had I been more adult and self-confident at the time, I'd have had him for it. I actually feel like trying to find him and emailing him and letting him know how I felt, but that wouldn't really achieve anything.

I'm sure it's obvious there's a raft of feelings involved in this whole memory, but my point was that I've made a link between that experience and my desire to help people now.