Things are much better now. I've put a holding deposit on a place in N London, I've been to see the doctor and got back on the pills, and I'm now back at Mum's trying to sort out all my stuff. I have to wait a week or so while I wait for a foreign student to vacate the room I want, but in the meantime I can get organised and start looking for work, training and/or benefits.

I know why I had this last breakdown and it's partly my fault for being so naive. Still, it scared the hell out of me. I thought I was past that stage by now.

Labels: depression, family, personal

Back in the UK, staying at Mum's. All plans on hold except seeing the doctor and getting the pills. Brain in meltdown.

Labels: depression, personal

I'm almost packed, fully dressed and waiting for Roger & Anneke to come down with the car to head to the airport.

The last few days have been really hard to cope with, and it seems the closer I get to facing my depression once again, the worse it is getting. I've been getting intense anxiety and just deep, dark lows, full of thoughts of uselessness and pointlessness. I'm finding it really hard to talk to people without getting irrationally emotional.

I just hope the next few days of traveling, flat-hunting and job-searching will keep my mind occupied enough to keep these thoughts at bay. However, I do trust medicine more than I trust hope, so I'm going to ask the GP in Dorking to get me back onto the Happy Pills as soon as possible.

Labels: depression, personal

Too much to think about, lots of hard facts and surprising reactions to face up to.

I just need to write down why I feel I need help with my mental health. When I had my breakdown in 2003 I was told I was depressed by my mother's GP in Dorking and my own GP in London. I was then assessed by the local NHS and put in group therapy (along the way, being assessed by at least 3 more people as suffering from depression).

After leaving group therapy after two years (due to my father's health) I then saw my mother's GP in Dorking, who booked me in to see a counsellor. I expressed doubts about my previous diagnoses but she was clear she thought I was depressed.

The only qualified person who has questioned this diagnosis was Dr Michael Rowlands, on the basis one hour-long interview. He also prescribed five different anti-depressants to a friend of my mother's before she found the ones that worked for her. So, in the light of all the above evidence, I am inclined to think that his opinion isn't worth the high sums he charges for it.

That's the expert advice I've received. My own personal experience is: irrational emotional responses (such as tears coming to my eyes for no reason while I'm engaged in conversation), thoughts of suicide, anxiety about interacting with groups of people, feelings of isolation and detachment, and a general inability to function on a day-to-day level at a level of stress most people seem to find normal.

Whatever problem I have I don't think it's imagined, or that I have a rare disorder whereby I crave attention from medical experts or something (I wish it were that simple). I don't know if the depression label fits it, or whether it's autism (as some have suggested), or whether it's something deeper that requires months of talk therapy. I'm open to trying CBT again, simply because it's worked for Nick, and it gives you tools to use in everyday life to change the way you think. I wish someone would pin it down, whatever it is, but I doubt that the answer is that simple.

Anyway, rather than write an angry, emotional response to an email I received, I thought it would be better for me to simply get clear in my head what I think the situation is.

Labels: depression, personal

Guess it's my page so I get to decide...

Hope you get the new top image. Reload until you do. I have some photos to share too but they aren't captioned yet.

Returning to the UK on Sunday the 25th, staying that night in Enfield, then negotiating the Bank Holiday before going to see my doctor in Dorking on the Tuesday. Hope to have somewhere to live in or near Enfield (North London, not Barbados!) by the end of the week.

Lots to share and lots to catch up on. Lots to do as well, but once I'm back and settled there'll be more.

Labels: family, personal, St Vincent