I’ve got to be honest – I’m really struggling to shake myself up this week. I said I was feeling better last night but, being complete honest with you, it’s a feeling that keeps on creeping back over me. I believe it’s to do with loneliness but, sometimes, I think about going to see my GP and asking for a referral to a psychiatrist for a proper diagnosis…
My counsellor (who I sought through my own actions) only ever ‘diagnosed’ me with social anxiety. Sometimes, I feel guilty writing these posts and talking about depression because I don’t feel like I suffer as much as many other bloggers. On an average day, I can be okay. I might not be happy but, I can cope with whatever I have to face. Then, there are days where I’m incredibly low and I struggle to get out of bed. It comes from nowhere (that I’m aware of, at least) and it doesn’t go away. Well, it does eventually (after a few days) but, I’m not sure what the cure is.
Growing up, I used to think I had a form of autism, given my OCD tendencies (which have deteriorated, over the years) and my difficulty in understanding, interacting and communicating with others. But then, I’m not sure whether autistic people recognise their own symptoms? My dad’s brother is autistic and has always been in care yet, he thinks he’s just like the rest of us. Having met two bipolar women this year, that’s another consideration I have… But then, I don’t believe that my lows are as severe as those experienced by someone who suffers from manic depression. I can feel restless and unable to sleep at times but, I’m not aware that I’ve ever had an episode of mania.
It’s too easy to look stuff up on the internet and to believe that you have everything wrong with you. I don’t believe in online testing for this sort of thing but, I do wonder about speaking to my GP and how easy it might be to get a proper diagnosis… Maybe I’m just over-thinking everything, as I always do? I just don’t feel that talking and counselling is going to be enough. Finding a way to fill the emotional emptiness in my life may help but, I worry I’d be dumping too much on one person. I tried anti-depressants a few years ago and they did nothing (I’m also sceptical as to whether they’re anything more than ‘psychological’ – “I will feel better if I keep taking these” – I heard, from an ex-friend, of how these things are given away at care homes like sweets and chocolates…).
I just needed to say that, really. I have a slightly more positive post on the way next though, as I’ve been out again today and I’ll share some more photos with you very shortly. Living back at my mum’s really isn’t helping me. All of the disturbance affects my abilities to relax. At least, when I was living alone (and very cold), I could write. If I’d have bothered to try, I could have begun learning to play my guitar (I now have two that are alien to me!). I just don’t feel that I can do that here, sharing a house with two others, while another family lives on the other side of my thin, bedroom wall.