We're getting there!
Today I visited my doctor, and at long last, things appear to be starting to go some place. Considering I have been placed on an eight month waiting list for some web-based CBT course, the doctor decided to refer me to an actual CBT course at Edgware hospital. There will be a three month waiting list for this. Slightly concerning, but I am not so worried as I have now been prescribed actual medication.

It's official now - I am on medication. Well I will be in a week, once I have slowly taken myself of the St. John's Wort. There's a box of Citalopram sat in front of me, and I pray that it will help me to return to the slightly saner person I was before.

I started taking the St. John's Wort a fortnight ago, with the first dose rendering me truly zonked! And for an off-the-shelf supplement, it has certainly helped to steady me. There has been a lot less crying, for a start! I did cry last Wednesday following the assessment for the web-based CBT course. I attended this at the Royal Free hospital in Hampstead. It was a pleasant enough affair, yet once outdoors, I felt doom-laden, and had to sit on a bench and pour some out. Funny what 'getting help' does to you.

For those that don't know, Citalopram is in the same class as Prozac and Paxil/Seroxat. There appear to be fewer horror stories about Citalopram, so I am slightly reassured there. Here's to rebuilding my sanity.
* * *

There's a whole lot of nothing going on
Found out the truth when I looked in vain for a helping hand in a hurricane.

So sang the Kane Gang in 1987.

It seems there is no help to be found in this world - unless, of course, it comes from yours truly. We must try not to allow ourselves to rely on others for help or assistance of any kind, because chances are, you may not get it. And if you find yourself depending on the help of another, then you will be sorely disappointed when it just doesn't materialise. Some people will hold out a promise, and then take it away.

I have suffered on and off from depression over the years. This current bout, which began to rear its ugly head in December of last year, is the only one I have sought help over. Time and time again, people have told me; "See a doctor!" or "You need help, you do!" Well this time around, I have done as these sods have advised, and sought this so-called help - only to find that it isn't worth a f*cking jot.
  • I go to my doctor, who diagnoses 'mild to moderate' depression. I suggest medication. He suggests the in-house counsellor.
  • I attend counselling sessions, only to be told that they will not be of any benefit to me, as I am too angst-ridden. I am advised to go back to my doctor for possible medication.
  • I return to my doctor, and request, once more, medication. He suggests a web-based Cognitive Behavioural Therapy course that is currently being trialled. This, despite my clearly worsening mental state. He advises me that it may take up to three weeks for them to make contact with me. I am sent on my way, to fend for my panicking self.
  • I hear from the CBT group, fortunately after a few days. An assessment is arranged. With my emotions becoming more and more frayed, I resort to taking the herbal supplement St. John's Wort, in order to steady me, and give me at least a little focus.
  • I attend the CBT assessment today, and it turns out that I am now suffering 'moderate' depression. I am recommended for their trial. Later in the day, I am telephoned, only to be told I have been put on an eight month waiting list. In the meantime, I must arrange to see my doctor.
And this all amounts to help, does it? Repeated requests for medication have been ignored, and now I am on a f*cking waiting list. What am I supposed to do during the next eight months? Heal myself? So it would seem. I have seen three professionals so far, and not one of them has delivered anything to improve my faltering mental state. The only respite thus far is from the herbal supplement that I bought from the shelf of my supermarket. So far, I am the only one who has helped me. All these f*cking so-called professionals have delivered diddly-squat.

So there you have it, peoples. If you want help - jolly well help yourself, because no one else can be relied on. The world doesn't care, or if it does, then it is just too flaming incompetent to lend you a suitable hand. Sad, but true. If you've got problems, they're your problems, no one else's. The only one who can ever be relied on to shelter and protect you - is you.

Seek help? I did - and what a f*cking load of use it was! The greatest help so far has come from ME! What does that tell you?

What a sorry state of affairs.
* * *

Spaced out
A couple of months ago, I went to see my doctor about my depression. On that first visit, I asked him if it would be beneficial for me to take the herbal supplement St. John's Wort. He agreed that it would probably benefit me. Today, I bought some. And having taken my first dose, I can honestly say I feel zonked. My movements have been slower and clumsier, but at least I am not crying or ranting.

I know any kind of remedy for depression or anxiety is not supposed to provide true relief until about 4-6 weeks of regular use, but it has done something for me. And I also know that such a remedy, herbal or otherwise, will probably have an initial over-effect, but I have to say I appreciate this zonked-out feeling. I'm too wasted to feel low. I also seem to be typing with fewer mistakes!

It would seem to me that, despite seeking help for my illness, I am ultimately required to help myself in the end.
* * *

Ramblers Anonymous
I shall be seeking out another counsellor. The mental health charity MIND has a branch only fifteen minutes walk from home, and although they cost, it is worth a try. It's only a matter of time before I find something that fits me a little better. I know it's out there, I just need to seek.

The doctor is pleasant enough, though I kinda wish I had that cantankerous paedo doctor back again. Whatever the ailment, he just threw tablets at it. I was expecting actual medication as I had no idea there was another method. Maybe the doc is right by encouraging me to try the slightly more self-help method of analysing my thoughts and actions, and then trying to work on better behaviour. I was just shocked by his seemingly cavalier attitude this morning. Here's me, trying to keep control, and not always succeeding.

It's true that I should not be taking my frustrations out on people at work. More so the customers. They pay my flipping wage, so I had better start respecting them a little more. And I achieved a promotion some time ago, so sabotaging my career is not too clever. I joined the Rambler's Association recently, as I do love my long distance walks. Now my walks have more of a purpose - seeing new sights and meeting fellow walkers. I am more than willing to try anything to rid me of my horrible behaviour. I don't expect instant results, though sometimes I yearn for something to knock me out. I can get so tied up in my own anxieties at times. Time and effort will deliver.
* * *

CBT - any good?
I saw my doctor this morning regarding my mental health, and he has referred me for a course of Cognitive Behavioural Therapy. My question is, is anyone familiar with this, and does it work? I will be honest, I was hoping he was going to furnish me with a prescription for some form of medication, but no fortune there. My moods and behaviour have become such that I do feel like I need sedating. But the doctor thinks differently.

I had two sessions with a counsellor recently, and she decided there was really nothing she could do for me, as my anxiety is just getting in the way. All she was able to do was make suggestions. I'll be honest, each counselling session left me feeling just as, if not more, helpless. And seeing the doctor this morning has left me feeling as though no one is prepared to give me what I need.

For the longest time, people have told me to see the doctor and seek medical assistance. Now I do, and all he seems to be doing is palming me off with alternatives. Is he right? I used to have a problem with the concept of swallowing medication, yet now I am willing to do it, the doctor has other things in mind.

The doctor has referred me to this facility, adding; "If you hear nothing from them in the next three weeks, come back to me". Why can I just not be sedated? How many more customers do I need to abuse at work before the doctor will sit up and take note? I want the help, but I am being given 'alternatives'. Am I being ungrateful here? Am I missing something? I just want to be able to think straight again, and perhaps be a little more normal. I'm sick of the ranting and the crying etc.
* * *

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