8 months… its been 8 months since I sat down and wrote. The break has not done me any favours, I will try not to leave it so long again. It’s not that I’ve had nothing to write about, quite the opposite actually. I think I’ve been avoiding it, avoiding facing up to whats been going on and coasting along pretending everything is ok when it’s not.
Last week I had my very first CBT session, that’s cognitive behavioural therapy for those of you who have never heard of it before. I was referred for it back in January and I’m only now getting started in the process. Some of my past will be hard to face up to and I’m afraid it will open a lot of old wounds but it will hopefully help me see why I react the way i do in certain situations and help me control my emotions and mood without the need for tablets.
Since I last blogged a lot has happened. Jenny and I celebrated our 5 year anniversary, we visited New York and left Callie for the longest we ever had (and ever will again!! A week away from our baby is just too long). I struggled yet again with my mental health and my medication was increased again. Callie has had multiple bouts of tonsillitis (the bane of my life) and as I mentioned last week I began therapy. It wasn’t at all what i expected, but I did initially leave feeling a lot better. Initially…
When my therapist told me to be kind to myself after my session she really wasn’t kidding. That first hour with her was so so intense and literally looked at a timeline of traumatic events over my whole life. Some of which I never truly considered as being traumatic. I’ve mentioned before my past relationship, how I was groomed online by her at only 17 years old and the events that followed. This was obviously one of the highlights of our conversation but before that we discussed my being bullied for as long as I can remember and my low self-esteem. Poor mental health seems to have followed me my entire life and will always be part of my story, I just need to learn to live with it and accept that it is part of me.
Something surprising happened at that meeting though, I was asked to take two “tests” to identify my level of anxiety and depression. I expected to score highly on the anxiety scale as that’s where a lot of my problems used to stem from and as far as depression goes I didn’t even think i needed to take that test. I didn’t think i was at all depressed, I was wrong… I scored very highly on depression and minimal on anxiety. Shocked was not the word.
I’d never considered that I could be depressed, maybe because I was so used to living with anxiety so to find out that I am totally threw me. We tend to think of people who are depressed as crying all the time and generally being sad. Lately I’ve been the opposite, in company at least. When I get home its different though. For the last few months I’ve literally went to work, come home and gotten dinner, put Callie to bed and fallen asleep beside her, that’s it. I’ve had no desire to do the things I love to do, it just seems like too much effort. Whether it’s as simple as turning on the tv, going and making myself a cup of tea or having a bath, I just couldn’t face it. It sounds so ridiculous as I type this but it’s all true. Ive actually avoided staying in my own house and being alone with Callie. I don’t really know why but I’ve just felt more comfortable when others are around me, I lost confidence in myself as a parent and genuinely thought she would prefer to be around others than me. I know thats not the case but in the last few weeks thats what I’ve thought. I got stuck in a rut and just couldn’t get myself out of it but I’m trying.
It sounds so pathetic when I say I’m proud of this because it’s what Mummies are supposed to do but these last two weeks I’ve cooked all of mine and Callie’s dinners, like actually cooked! Not relied on anyone else to do it. My house has stayed tidy and I’ve spent more quality time with Callie, less tv, less phone and more time for just us and its been brilliant!
This last week has been so stressful with money worries, a depression diagnoses and a few other things but I’ve gotten through it and I’ve kept my house and myself together through it all. I have fought harder this week to stay afloat than I think I ever have. I usually bury my head in the sand as a way of dealing with things but I’m really trying to meet this head on. I want to get better, I want to be healthy and I want to be happy, not just for my sake but for my family too.