I am medicated yet still nearly crippled by depression (I am bi-polar.) and it’s been lasting longer than I care to assess. I sleep as much as I can get away with. I am not keeping house. I have all but stopped painting and other art save for the props and sets I volunteered to paint for the local village production of Oliver. Seems like the only thing I care about right now are the little seedlings I’ve been growing. I’m not much of a gardener, but the dozens of little plants flourishing in my care seem to give me a kind of hope. I don’t know what I’d do without them right now. (Although I am selling some of the tomato plants off – well, no one has bought one yet, but it’s been too cold to set them out for a couple of days.)
I’m on anti-depressants and have been for over a year. Without them I’d be a basket case, but on them I’m at least getting dressed and… well, I’m getting dressed. That’s something. I saw a nurse from the mental health branch of the NHS and am in the queue for a psychiatrist. I’m trying to steer my treatment back to tackling ADHD (Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder) medically and treat the depression through therapy and perhaps continue on medicine for that too. I’m living half a life and know what it’s like to be on a successful treatment programme; it hurts to have this knowledge and not be able to experience it right now.
I guess I just wanted to get this out, as I’ve been very slack at keeping up with my online (and offline), life, interests and communications. I am not OK, but I’m hopeful that ‘better’ is just around the corner.