therapy

Dear reader,

I feel compelled to write as I had my first follow up appointment with my psychologist yesterday. I had a bit of a 'breakdown' a few weeks back when I woke up-it was during a particularly sunny spell, the temperature was 20 degrees, the sun splitting the trees and humanity was happy- I on the other hand, felt bleak, heavy and sick. I could not move my legs. I was due to start work in one hour. I did what I usually do: I showered and attempted to dress but as I was putting on my clothes, I felt a real leaden weight and fell on a heap on my bathroom floor. I did not know what to do. I could not go on.
Frightened and desperate, I picked up the phone and called my GP, who gave me an appointment. I just about managed to dress myself and pulled back my still wet hair. What happened next was a blur: how I got to the Doctor's surgery I do not know.

Most of my issues are to do with self-esteem, and this is one of the main reasons why I am as ill as I am: apparently I have deep rooted self-esteem issues from childhood (more about that later). So as I went in to the doctor's surgery I felt that familiar sense of anxiety: I was scared: scared to tell the doctor what was wrong for fear of being thought of as stupid, scared to talk about my illness, scared of being there in general. So I did what I usually did and told the doctor I was feeling a 'bit unwell'- a bit of an understatement. He did what he usually did and upped my dose of anti-depressants. I told him I was scared for my sanity that day. He told me to get back in touch with my mental health professional (I had just finished an intensive course of CAT: Cognitive Analytical Therapy) and arrange something  there. I left feeling worse. There was no way out. nobody could help me and it was all me.

I broke down outside the surgery and desperately called my therapist- there was nothing else I could think of... I wanted to die but I was scared. I needed help. I was put through to the very kind secretary who arranged a call back for me. There was nothing else that could be done. I made my way back home, closed the blinds to blind out the blistering sun and lay in my bed sobbing. I called my work to tell them I wouldn't be in (something I had completely forgotten in the midst of my anxiety) and fell asleep.
I received a call back from the secretary and she arranged an appointment with a psychologist for 4 weeks later.

Yesterday was that day. My session was a review of how I had been feeling. I told him about the ups and downs, the stresses of everyday life, the pain and suffering. He has agreed that group therapy is best for me- talking in a group with similar like minded people who are going through the same issues. because, I'm sure I don't need to tell those sufferers out there that while you have the love and support of family and friends from time-to-time, it is very difficult for a non sufferer to really feel what you are. I guess this is one of the reasons I started this blog in the first place to communicate with others like me who suffer like me.

I will keep in touch to inform you of how that sessions are getting on... Thanks for listening!