and I'm on a level. It's pretty nice. I did sit with half a pill in my hand the other day, wondering whether I should double the dose back up to 40mg to help me get through this most recent of bumps in the road, but I'll stick with 20mg for now and have another think about it when I run out. I think I'm level and capable enough at the moment to face all these challenges without the need to lean on the drugs so much. I'm self-aware and keeping a good eye on myself, as well as Sophie, to make sure we're both level or on the up. The minute I notice I'm struggling, I'll re-evaluate.
Sophie has been through another short-notice doctor's appointment, an evaluation with the mental health team at CAHMS and has an appointment to start some developmental work with the counsellor who assessed her. Nice lady, Becky, very professional, a typical mental health assessment which I've been through a number of times myself. Sophie was very open and honest with her and didn't hold anything back, which is wonderful to see. I know how easy it is to go to these things and clam up and be so overwhelmed by the event and the feelings that you can't elicit any kind of information. But no, she was smooth and informative and helpful, on the outside at least.
At times it's been incredibly difficult to deal with her unending negativity. I know it's a symptom, I know it's how she's feeling generally, but my god I never thought it'd be so hard to see my little girl go through it. I'm trying my hardest to be stable and supportive and on a level myself, to give Sophie everything she might need to get through the day-to-day struggle I know she's experiencing. I think she's stable, I'm less worried about her now than I was a few days ago, and it's very comforting to know that she's in The System and things are moving forwards at a pace that I wouldn't usually expect from a service like CAMHS.
We also have a backup in the form of Sophie's school nurse, Linda. . Sophie has been very open with Linda and the nurse related some of her past to Sophie. They seem to have experienced similar ups and downs in their lives, and Linda told us that if we find the CAMHS service isn't working as we'd like, she'd get in touch with "her people" and get us on another route. Again, it's so comforting to know that someone at the school is watching over her and offering their professional support. Thank you Linda.
So, it's a steady plod to normality for both Sophie and I. Keep your fingers crossed the way is clear.
Sunday, February 26, 2012
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
I've been leaning on the blog less and less
recently and I think that needs to change. It's always been a great outlet and analytical tool to understand how I'm feeling and what might be at the centre of low points in my life, and it seems a shame to ignore such a helpful resource. I'm not sure what's kept me away other than general apathy, but I'd like to return to regular writing.
I read back through the posts linked from my post on 5th Feb and my gosh, there were so many warning signs about my alcohol consumption and attitude to stopping. Had I been stronger I'd have stopped a couple of years ago, but as usual it's taken a huge kick in the arse to encourage action. This is something I'd like to explore with a psychologist, this habit of ignoring warning signs until things get incredibly heavy. I've done it for as long as I can remember - last-minute homework, putting off debts until they go bad etc. I see it as a form of self-punishment and a sneaky way of contributing to the destructive spiral of depression. I've known about it for years too. One would have thought I'd have done something about it by now. I think by recognising it when it's happening, and encouraging myself to sort problems at the earliest possible time, I could really contribute towards a generally happier me.
Anyway, to the reason I'm here. Sophie's been diagnosed with depression and referred to the CAMHS adolescent mental health team in Aylesbury. It didn't really come as a shock - the day before she came to me and told me she was feeling low, I'd told Mark I was worried about her, and it had occurred to me a week or so earlier that she hadn't been herself recently. I'm surprised my own "mental health radar" didn't click that she's depressed, as I'd certainly seen the warning sings over a long period. She's been staying in more, socialising less, eating less, burying herself in reading or the internet and somewhat less conversational, less perky. She's been asking all sorts of questions about depression, treatments, anti-depressants etc over the past couple of months, but I put that down to an interest in my own recovery more than her testing the water for her own state of mind. I guess my radar's been busy keeping tabs on my own precarious recovery but I can't help feel a touch guilty that I didn't realise sooner. More on guilt in a few paragraphs.
However, Sophie was strong enough and stable enough to come forward and tell me how she was feeling. She said she was worried she was suffering from depression because she'd lost a lot of positivity from her life and things weren't getting better after a number of months. I gave her the biggest cuddle and we talked things through. I did a little probing to find out how long she's felt low and a round-up of the things that are bothering her. We talked about treatment options and promised to make a doctor's appointment the following morning. She spoke to her doctor and I was invited in to talk about treatment options. Her referral should go through soon and we hope for some contact with the service over the next few weeks. I've tried to give her as much information as possible to help her and those she tells understand what she's going through and how she'll be treated.
The poor girl. It's taking a while for it to sink in, for Sophie to decide who should know, to understand the implications and future treatment. Fortunately, I can still see large, shining sparks of my daughter, she smiles regularly and her sarcasm certainly hasn't worn off. I am gutted gutted gutted she's been diagnosed. She's lost part of herself and it's hit her when she was at the top of her game, but considering the depth of my own disease, not to mention the possibilities with the other half of her genes, the potential for a genetic disposition to depression has been in my mind since she was born.
As gutted as I am, I also have faith in the system. The mental health services I've encountered since my initial diagnosis have been at both ends of a pretty long scale but, on the whole, I've taken a lot of skills from each stage of the climb back up to 'normality'. I've heard good things about the CAMHS service in Aylesbury and have good things to say myself about all the mental health services I've encountered from the Buckinghamshire and Oxfordshire trusts, so my confidence in her recovery is strong. It may take six months, it may take years, but I know she'll get there, and starting now means she'll have the tools to deal with depression for the rest of her life.
Back to guilt. I am aware that the state of my own mental health over the past six months may well have effected Sophie in ways I can't really imagine, and I'm beating myself up about it somewhat. She's known I've been low, she's seen me struggle through various ups and downs and deal with alcohol and money issues. The flat's been a mess for months and I know it's not helped either of us. Hopefully the fact that I've been improving this side of Christmas should give her hope that things can get better, and that with the right management her diagnosis doesn't have to mean a lifetime of lows.
There really is hope. I think I'm barely restraining a cry of "WWWHHHYYYYYY??!" but I'm definitely leaning on my own experiences in recovery and, I suppose, the knowledge that Sophie has so many happy, loving and caring people in her life who'll give her the love she deserves to help her through.
I read back through the posts linked from my post on 5th Feb and my gosh, there were so many warning signs about my alcohol consumption and attitude to stopping. Had I been stronger I'd have stopped a couple of years ago, but as usual it's taken a huge kick in the arse to encourage action. This is something I'd like to explore with a psychologist, this habit of ignoring warning signs until things get incredibly heavy. I've done it for as long as I can remember - last-minute homework, putting off debts until they go bad etc. I see it as a form of self-punishment and a sneaky way of contributing to the destructive spiral of depression. I've known about it for years too. One would have thought I'd have done something about it by now. I think by recognising it when it's happening, and encouraging myself to sort problems at the earliest possible time, I could really contribute towards a generally happier me.
Anyway, to the reason I'm here. Sophie's been diagnosed with depression and referred to the CAMHS adolescent mental health team in Aylesbury. It didn't really come as a shock - the day before she came to me and told me she was feeling low, I'd told Mark I was worried about her, and it had occurred to me a week or so earlier that she hadn't been herself recently. I'm surprised my own "mental health radar" didn't click that she's depressed, as I'd certainly seen the warning sings over a long period. She's been staying in more, socialising less, eating less, burying herself in reading or the internet and somewhat less conversational, less perky. She's been asking all sorts of questions about depression, treatments, anti-depressants etc over the past couple of months, but I put that down to an interest in my own recovery more than her testing the water for her own state of mind. I guess my radar's been busy keeping tabs on my own precarious recovery but I can't help feel a touch guilty that I didn't realise sooner. More on guilt in a few paragraphs.
However, Sophie was strong enough and stable enough to come forward and tell me how she was feeling. She said she was worried she was suffering from depression because she'd lost a lot of positivity from her life and things weren't getting better after a number of months. I gave her the biggest cuddle and we talked things through. I did a little probing to find out how long she's felt low and a round-up of the things that are bothering her. We talked about treatment options and promised to make a doctor's appointment the following morning. She spoke to her doctor and I was invited in to talk about treatment options. Her referral should go through soon and we hope for some contact with the service over the next few weeks. I've tried to give her as much information as possible to help her and those she tells understand what she's going through and how she'll be treated.
The poor girl. It's taking a while for it to sink in, for Sophie to decide who should know, to understand the implications and future treatment. Fortunately, I can still see large, shining sparks of my daughter, she smiles regularly and her sarcasm certainly hasn't worn off. I am gutted gutted gutted she's been diagnosed. She's lost part of herself and it's hit her when she was at the top of her game, but considering the depth of my own disease, not to mention the possibilities with the other half of her genes, the potential for a genetic disposition to depression has been in my mind since she was born.
As gutted as I am, I also have faith in the system. The mental health services I've encountered since my initial diagnosis have been at both ends of a pretty long scale but, on the whole, I've taken a lot of skills from each stage of the climb back up to 'normality'. I've heard good things about the CAMHS service in Aylesbury and have good things to say myself about all the mental health services I've encountered from the Buckinghamshire and Oxfordshire trusts, so my confidence in her recovery is strong. It may take six months, it may take years, but I know she'll get there, and starting now means she'll have the tools to deal with depression for the rest of her life.
Back to guilt. I am aware that the state of my own mental health over the past six months may well have effected Sophie in ways I can't really imagine, and I'm beating myself up about it somewhat. She's known I've been low, she's seen me struggle through various ups and downs and deal with alcohol and money issues. The flat's been a mess for months and I know it's not helped either of us. Hopefully the fact that I've been improving this side of Christmas should give her hope that things can get better, and that with the right management her diagnosis doesn't have to mean a lifetime of lows.
There really is hope. I think I'm barely restraining a cry of "WWWHHHYYYYYY??!" but I'm definitely leaning on my own experiences in recovery and, I suppose, the knowledge that Sophie has so many happy, loving and caring people in her life who'll give her the love she deserves to help her through.
Sunday, February 5, 2012
Day 10 of the reduction-to-20mg of Citalopram challenge
and I'm confident that dropping my anti-depressant dose is the right thing to do. January was a completely different month for me. Getting Christmas out of the way, with its financial burdens and over-hanging threat of family unease, seems to have made a big different in my general mood and I've been on the up the past few weeks.
I happily attribute some of this improvement to the fact I'm still not boozing. I've not had a drink since 17th December and I think that's given me a huge hit of clarity generally. I've found it so astonishingly easy I feel like I'm cheating, and I somewhat regret not having stopped sooner. But as I've said elsewhere in this blog, the second-best time to plant a tree is today, and that slight regret isn't stopping me harvesting great big chunks of personal smug from my sobriety.
I do still have a couple of things holding me back. They're mostly psychological, and maybe it's time I started dedicating a little more effort to the blog again so I can explore these restrictions in a little more detail. I've been determined to start video-blogging but haven't got around to it - procrastination in general seems to be a huge hurdle at the moment! I keep thinking "One step at a time" but things do seem like they're stagnating a little. Walking, housework, personal care and waking lucidity all seem to have taken a bit of a hit recently, so once this cold buggers off I'll try and make a concerted effort to bring everything back into line with this "new me".
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