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.
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