Monday, 28 March 2011


Another awful trip to the doctor.

I'd been doing OK, mood-wise, all day, but as the appointment got closer, I got more and more anxious and tearful. I soo didn't want to go, simply because it meant talking about how things are, facing up to it. I was also worried he'd be difficult about signing me off, mostly because I couldn't think of specific things to say, to show it was necessary.

Fortunately, that wasn't an issue - he signed me off straight away for two more weeks. Apparently, staring at your shoes and being unable to string a sentence together is proof enough.

Bizarrely, the shrink called to talk to him while I was in there, and he said afterwards that she's definitely not just looking for an excuse to discharge me. He agrees that I still really need to be seeing her.

I have to start the new antidepressants tomorrow, but because I haven't had a break between the two, I have to be on the lookout for a serotonin overload. (Both types release serotonin, but in different ways, and apparently, too much is bad - not just feeling uber-happy, as I'd hoped.)

We also decided I'd carry on taking 20mg of the slow release morphine at night, instead of 10, because of the bad pain overnight.

I emailed work when I got home, to let them know the situation, and got a very perfunctory reply back from my boss. I felt quite hurt, because it felt like they didn't need me, yet I know damn well I couldn't work at the moment.

This evening, I'm miserable and tearful and just want to hide under the covers. I have no idea if or when I'll ever get back to work. I'm so fucking messed up at the moment, I bloody hate it!

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