Depression and Anxiety

My first week back to work has been more full of anxiety than I’d care to admit.  Who would have thought that three days at work would leave me shaking and ceaselessly wringing my hands?  I needed a follow-up with the GP to get more anti-depressants and got an appointment on Friday morning.  While there, I was given a repeat prescription and a phone number for a counsellor.  I had thought that I might get counselling through the NHS but the number I was given was for a service that charges an astonishing half-price for January of £99.  (!)

Of course I started to wonder what a counsellor might actually do for me and if I really needed the help.  My depression/anxiety started on the occasion of my deceased father’s birthday in November.  Am I still wrestling with the idea that I was a terrible daughter to him?  Yes.  I still feel guilty that I wasn’t there for him.  I missed my own father’s funeral.  While I did what I could at the time to mourn, but the guilt is there too.  I wasn’t there.  I feel I was never there.  Not for him, nor any of my American family.  It’s a constant and dark guilt that became sharp when my father died.  I had missed the opportunity to tell him how much I love being his daughter.

Not long after Dad died I had a dream.  I was in Dad’s house.  Helios was there, wearing a light blue and white bathrobe.  He walked from one room to another.  Then, I walked down the hall to the kitchen where Dad was holding a miniature version of me.  Dad was young, had a full head of hair and no sign of his Parkinsons Tremour.  He tickled the pint-sized girl under the chin the way he used to with me.  He pointedly looked at me and then to the child and then back at me.  He stood the girl on the chair and pointed at her and me as if to say “Look!  It’s you!”  It was as if we were unable to speak to one another – I wanted to say “I understand”;  I wanted to say “I miss you”.  At the time I took the dream as a sign that Dad had forgiven me and he still loved me.

I think what really set me off wasn’t just Dad’s birthday but the fact that a friend at work was unable to go to her grandmother’s funeral in Ghana.  The two events made me feel the full press of grief all over again.  Bearing this in mind, before I ask for counselling, I’ll speak to my friend and hear her story.  Perhaps after I speak to her I’ll feel a bit more positive about being able to leave the flat, go to work and feel a bit more like myself again?

Of course there may be other reasons why I am feeling the way I’m feeling but this is my most obvious starting point.  In the meantime, I’ve looked at more local counsellors and have  been recommended to speak to someone who only charges £20 per hour.

Foxy

Christmas Break

We had quite a journey to the West Country between Christmas and New Year.  I thought it would be a good idea to take the train – a more relaxing way to travel.  We got there in the end but public transport doesn’t always go to plan.  Our transfer at Reading Station took a lot longer than we’d anticipated and we spent nearly two hours standing in the cold awaiting our next train.  Luckily for us, we hopped on and found a seat where we could – in first class – and stayed there.

Our journey in first class ended at Tiverton Parkway where we took a bus replacement service to Exeter because there was flooding on the rails between Tiverton and Exeter.  Ultimately our journey that should have taken about 4½ hours took nearly 6½.  Understandably, we were pretty tired when we arrived.

My mother in law had a pizza on hand for us together with a wide variety of cakes, sweets, drinks and other food that we may or may not like.  I was reminded of visiting with my mom – who stocks up with enough provisions to feed the Romanian Army when we come to visit!

The next morning we awoke and got ready to see my father in law.  We have to time our visits well because he tends to be easily distracted and has been known to forget to eat.  We were told that the best time to go is 11am.  Thanks to my time with my dad, I feel I have an idea of what to look for in a nursing home.  It’s set in what could be a manor house.  There is a large dining room to the right just inside the front door.  To the left, a few comfy chairs where my father in law was sitting.  It seemed a clean and bright place where the staff smiled when they saw us.

My father in law beamed with a smile when he saw Helios.  It’s clear that he recognised him but was unable to put a name to his face straightaway.  He got my name right though and we were thinking that there is probably a reasonable explanation: he has only known me as an adult whereas he’s known Helios all his life and may be trying to match the mental pictures he has of a child to the adult standing before him.  My father in law was on good form as he was hoisted from his chair and wheeled to the dining room where we could have a visit in private.  While the move was being undertaken, Helios went to his dad’s room.   In the meantime, I sat with my father in law and listened to how much he liked the place and how nice it was festooned with festive paraphernalia.  He loved the attention and I was pleased to be there.

Later that afternoon we met Apollo, Helios’s son.  He’s a lovely kid and I just adore him.  I made sure to tell him how much my mom appreciates him looking in on her every so often.

The next day we visited my father in law again.  I found this visit to be harder because he looks so frail and, as we were going, I couldn’t stop myself thinking: “I may not see you again in this life.”  It’s hard not to adore such a kind-hearted and positive individual.  I fought  back the tears as we were leaving.

That afternoon – perhaps to take our minds off how ill my father  in law is – my mother in law has arranged to see a number of her family at the Conservative Club in town.  Uncle R met us at the flat and walked with us to the Club.  Lucky thing he did, one of the door handles fell apart in Helios’s hand so Uncle R fixed it (with a bit of tin foil in the end) and we were off.

One of the things I love about blokes in families is the lively banter they affectionately give one another.  The teasing can be relentless but it’s never malicious and, I think, is a replacement for the more obvious affection that women give one another.  Well, Helios was being teased something chronic that afternoon but he gave as good as he got.  I couldn’t stop chuckling.  So when they started playing darts, we ladies joined in and had a great time.

That evening we had a Chinese delivered and enjoyed a quiet evening with my mother in law.  It’s unusual for us to spend so much time with her because her flat is too small to comfortably sleep four people.  With her husband in the nursing home, I think she was glad to have company, if only for a couple of days.

The next morning we went to the train station and started our epic journey home.  Luckily the flooding had subsided and the rails repaired so we didn’t have the problem of taking a bus-replacement service near Exeter.  Our connecting trains were all on time and we arrived home in the early evening.  Good thing we had New Years to get ourselves prepared for more work and daily routine.

I hope you had a peaceful Christmas and New Year.

Foxy

Goodbye 2012

Well friends, I cannot let the end of 2012 pass without pondering how it all went.  I have to say, 2012 was a long year.  At the beginning of 2012 I was still rather bloated and in a lot of pain.  I had a laparoscopic surgery in March where I expected endometriosis to be found and cleared.  Unfortunately, a new malady was found and, where possible, cleared.  Fibroids were the cause of my period pain this time.  For treatment I had two choices: I could live with it or I could have a hysterectomy.  It took a couple of weeks to come to a decision but, as soon as I had another period, I knew I had to have a hysterectomy.  I was at wits end and needed to wait three months for relief.

Meanwhile, during my recovery from my first surgery of 2012, I organised to go to the US using the money my father left me.  Emotionally, it was an intense trip.  It’s so hard to do and see and say everything that I want to within just a few days.  Having said that, I had a wonderful time and wouldn’t trade it for anything.  Thanks Dad.

In June we celebrated the Queen’s Diamond Jubilee.  I didn’t go to London but I did enjoy all the festivities from the comfort of my own sofa.  Brits don’t normally make a big deal about patriotism but, on this occasion, it was an astounding success.  It made me proud to call England home.

Shortly after the Jubilee, my sister and her boyfriend came to visit.  What a wonderful time we had!  England, despite periodic rain, has rarely looked so lovely.  I did my best to keep up with her but, I’m sorry to say, she has more energy in her little finger than I have in my entire body.

The London Olympics and Paralympics was an amazing experience.  I saw the Olympic Torch go by in person.  My husband and I went to see the Men’s Road Race event in person – because 1) it was reasonably close, 2) we didn’t need tickets and 3) we could say that we were there.  I absolutely loved the whole atmosphere of the country during the Olympics.

The wait continued for my hysterectomy.  Rarely has a mere 3 months felt more like 6 years!  In some ways, the wait was a good thing as I was able to do a number of things to lessen my recovery time overall.  By the time my date arrived I felt fat, bloated and uncomfortable.  I will never forget the sensation of constantly needing the loo –  my uterus was so full of fibroids it was pushing on my bladder and bowel.  They removed 2 kgs of material in my surgery – so I’m not surprised that I was uncomfortable beforehand!  My time in hospital passed without serious incident.   Afterwards I had a nasty stomach bug – which did nothing to shorten my recovery time!  However, the rest of my recovery time passed without incident.

Coming  back to a normal routine and finally feeling better has proved to be more of a struggle than I’d hoped.  After my dad’s birthday this year I’ve had problems with depression.  I think, after all the struggles I’ve had – not to mention two surgeries in the space of just a few months – my body may just be recovering from the various traumas in its own way.  You know how it goes when you’ve been really stressed for a few months and then, as soon as you get the chance to relax, you come down with a cold?  I think my depression may just  be the same sort of thing.  I’ll feel better overall once I get over my “cold”.

Let’s hope that everyone has a happier, healthier 2013!

Happy New Year

Foxy

Holiday

Normally Helios and I stay at home over the Holidays and relax.  However, Helios and I are planning to go to his hometown on 27^th December to see his family.  His father is dreadfully ill.  After several months of him going downhill and going in and out of hospital, and his mom trying to cope with him when he’s out of hospital, he’s finally gone into a nursing home.  His mom sounds a lot more like herself on the phone and his dad is getting the attention he needs.  It has been a struggle since his dad has had a number of infections and is now unable to walk at all.  I think his dad is still losing weight.  Anyway, I am bracing myself for the worst.  We will be coming home the afternoon of 30^th after spending the morning with his mom on her birthday.  I’ve decided we can take the train for the journey – it will be more expensive than driving but I figure Helios and I can focus our attention on one another for the trips (4 hours each way) or read and relax.  I just want to be there for him, you know what I mean?

Foxy

Merry Christmas Everyone

May you have a festive, happy and healthy holiday season!

Foxy

What the doctor said…

I arrived early for my 8:30 appointment.  To be honest, I knew I needed to see the doctor again but didn’t know what I wanted from the appointment.  Normally, I have in mind what I want to get out of it and treat it like a business meeting.  I have a list of symptoms and have a rough idea of what to expect from each appointment.  This time, because I’ve been up and down and am on my second set of prescription anti-depressants, I wasn’t sure what to expect.  I knew I needed something but wasn’t sure what I wanted.

Basically I am still struggling with my emotions – anxiety and depression.  I feel down all the time and get apprehensive at the thought of going to work (even though work have been marvellous about supporting me through my health problems) and at the thought of doing anything outside my comfort zone.  I was painfully anxious about going to the doctor this morning and found myself wringing my hands in an effort to keep them from feeling sweaty!  I was so upset that I found myself feeling desperate for the toilet!

 I had noticed that my nausea had subsided a bit over the weekend but returned with a vengeance Sunday afternoon.  Taking this into consideration, the doc has given me more of the same tablets in the hope that, if I’m not feeling so anxious, the nausea will disappear.  I’m to take 20mg instead of 10mg at night.  We think that the current stomach trouble is due to anxiety rather than a side effect of the medication.  (Based mainly on how I’m reacting to remaining in my comfort zone.)  I’m not exactly delighted but strongly suspect she may be right.  I have been asked to attend another follow-up after the holidays and am satisfied that, at the very least, I’m being looked after properly.

As well as upping my tablets, I found a recommended website that I’m finding to be helpful.  There are links to books and other standard advice for handling depression and anxiety.  I’m not enthusiastic but don’t have much enthusiasm for anything at the moment.  It certainly looks good.

As well as seeing the doctor, I picked up the turkey this morning and fought my way through crowds to get some vegetables.  I wish I felt more festive.  Perhaps the tablets will kick in by New Year?

Foxy

Better?

I did half days most of this week because of my nerves and nausea.  I thought I’d finally felt better yesterday afternoon when I found myself bouncing around the room to the jingle of an advert.  I was not nauseated and had a brighter outlook.  “Finally,” I thought, “I’m more like my old self!”  I’m pleased to report that the nausea has come and gone since.  I still have it but it’s not quite as fierce as it was.  I will still mention it to the doctor when I see her tomorrow.

I will also need to mention the other end of my digestive system.  Not good!

I’m having a strange side-effect:  I’m sweating.  My feet and hands are permanently wet at the moment.  At first I thought it was my shoes so at work I went back to wearing an older pair, sure enough, my feet were still wet and cold.  I have it at home as well.  I seem to get warm and then I’m back to ice cold because my feet sweat so much.  Yuk!

As well as anti-depressants, I’ve been taking Rescue Remedy in the hopes that it will help keep my nerves calm.  I will admit that some days it helps more than others.

I think the side-effects aren’t helping my mental attitude.  It’s true that I am feeling brighter and more capable but at the same time I’m also feeling uncomfortable and unsure.  I’ll be sure to mention all this to the doctor.  With luck she will be able to either give me something more suitable or suggest something else that I can be doing.

The only thing that appears to have not changed since I started displaying symptoms is… (drum roll please) my sex drive.  I still cannot believe how much my hysterectomy has effected my desire for my husband.  I could happily jump his bones with a little more regularity but I may just wear him out if I’m not careful!  Luckily he doesn’t complain much. He actually lets me catch him when I chase him around the bedroom so I don’t think I’m at risk of damaging him yet.

Speaking of my husband, after reading my blog he pulled me aside and gave me a few homes truths.  He said he was grateful when I said that I didn’t want to have children.  He is delighted with the kids he has but didn’t particularly want more.  Had we met earlier in our lives, perhaps we would have had kids, perhaps we wouldn’t.  It doesn’t matter now.  What matters is that I’m healthy and happy.  Carrying around guilt for something that is out of my control is unhealthy.  Then, he shook his finger at me and said in a stern voice “So stop it!”

The nice thing about my husband is that I’ve never felt any pressure from him to be anything but myself.  In such a calm and nurturing environment, I’ve been able to let go some of the things that have plagued me.  I no longer feel guilty for the wrongs I committed during my first marriage.  I no longer feel as though I’m not living up to my potential in my career.  For the first time in my life I am content and it’s something that I am enjoying.  Now if only I could stop fretting, sweating and feeling nauseated…

Foxy

And you’d smile about it…

At work some people are kindly asking how I’m feeling.  I’m still nauseated.  I’m not struggling with how to answer but I am struggling with my emotions when they ask.  Don’t get me wrong – I’ve not been crying.   Quite the contrary, I felt nothing when one of the girls asked after me.  I coyly said that my symptoms were caused by tablets and I’m going back to the doctor for it.  When she asked if it was another gynaecological problem and I had to say no.  She laughed and said that “Foxy, you’re a wreck!”  I laughed but felt nothing.   I told her one of these days one of my legs would fall off.  She said “And you’d smile about it too.”  I smiled but felt nothing.  I could have done with being able to cry or be picked up by these comments (and I’d like to say how lovely everyone is that I work with) but I’ve felt nothing.

I think what I’ll do is stop taking the anti-depressants.  I have a follow-up with the GP on Monday and will ask for something other than drugs.  Maybe St John’s Wort will be a better choice for me?  Maybe I could do with some counselling?  I’ll speak to the GP about it all and hopefully I’ll start to feel better in the new year.

Foxy

Bah Humbug!

I wish I had a better update but I only managed a half day at work today.  I’m still feeling nauseated but, what’s worse is I’m feeling down again.  There’s a cloud around my heart.  I don’t feel like doing anything.   I don’t want to go anywhere.  Even Beatles Tunes aren’t lifting my spirits.

I’m trying not to feel guilty for not feeling Christmasy.  I just know that sometime in February I’ll finally start to feel like Christmas and I’ll have missed it.

I am going to bed.

Foxy

Still not right

Last night I felt I barely slept.  I went to bed at 8:30 and drifted off quickly.  I woke up at 2am and was still awake at 6am.  When the time came for me to get up I felt I couldn’t possibly have managed to get dressed, much less go to work.  I stayed home.  I’m exhausted and so nauseated that I’m wondering if I’ll get an ulcer.  Perhaps all I really need is for the first anti-depressant to work its way through my system?  Fingers crossed I’ll feel better tomorrow!

Foxy