squidgy
Sat, Jul-27-02, 17:01
Am I really depressed? Or am I just a lazy slovenly unsociable hypochondriac with a chip on my shoulder?
Course, there's always been the thought in the back of my mind that the only time you go to the doc and make out you're depressed and get your SSRI's is when the bloke that sorts you out with something for the weekend gets busted and you can't nose out a new one ..... but no-one's ever really depressed, are they? I mean, not really? You'd never admit to it really, would you?
Here's my issue. My mum is convinced I'm depressed. Well, okay, maybe not convinced, but she thinks it's depression, she compares the way that I behave to the way that my sister behaves, and when my sister behaves the way I do, she gets given Prozac for it. At least that's what my mum says anyway. And my sister reckons it helps her.
Not that this ever happens to me, though. Not that I want SSRI's for the reasons I've given, but I do want some sort of help. But it's not forthcoming. I've been to see my doctor over ten times this year already. Perhaps my communication skills just aren't very good. He's already asked for, ummm, a break from me for a few months, and wants me to start seeing one of his colleagues in the surgery instead. Hmph. Have I upset him? I didn't mean to .....
I don't know if there's anything clinically wrong with me, but there are a few things about how my life has panned out that I just can't deny, and which don't seem normal to me. They are, the fact that I've lived in the same tiny bedsit for over six years. Most of my neighbours move out after only a few months but I really can't see the point. It's a grim place. I could be more houseproud. There are days when I wake up in the morning, but don't actually get dressed for like, six or eight hours afterwards, because I don't see the point. I struggle to hold down a job for more than a few months at a time, regardless of what it is, and despite schooling and qualifications. Not good at shopping round. Hate shopping at all, in fact, so tend to buy first overpriced things I see. By 'eck does this show on the credit card statements. Sure there's benefits like sick pay but I never bother claiming them - after all, I'm not really ill, am I? Well, I can't convince doctor of it anyway. Perhaps I don't really deserve it.
And what about my friends? Friends? Now and then, I actually have friends. But not very often, I'm a bit aloof. I feel lonely a lot of the time, but am scared of making a fool of myself. Okay, I suppose I'm just scared to meet new people, and don't want to make the effort. When I do have friends, the friendships don't tend to last for more than a few months before I do something really silly that blows it. And I can forget about the idea of anyone wanting a more serious relationship with me, let's face it, it's not going to happen.
Sure I've started low carbing, and sure I'm trying to give up smoking, but I don't really see the point, because I honestly don't feel any better for either of these things. :(
My mum, bless her, she cares. But she seems to be critical of my lifestyle, as if all my health problems are my fault. I don't take it very well, and therefore tend to try to avoid her. Thing is, I know that some of my problems really are my fault, but hey, I don't want to hear that, it doesn't help me now. She's full of advice, but gives it in a way which makes me think that I'm stupid if I don't take it. I guess she probably doesn't intend it to sound like this but that's how I read it. There have been times when I cut my arms with a razor blade within minutes of talking to her.
People are going to say pull yourself together. But I really can't keep putting up the front. I've tried. And it hasn't got me anywhere.
But I don't know, maybe I should stop being so lazy and stupid. I once said straight out to the doctor that I thought I was depressed. He then asked me a few questions, about eating and sleeping habits, which I think I fluffed up the answers to, because I didn't want to come across as sounding stupid. He said that I don't come across as being depressed. And that was that. No-one in the surgery has even wanted to entertain the idea since then.
Maybe they don't want to go down that road because of my history, though? I was rushed into hospital for amphetamine overdose in 1995, which now haunts my medical record. I've also had two fairly serious head injuries, one of which I had to stay in hospital for a week for - oh, and I happened to have glandular fever at the time, although it wasn't diagnosed until later, and was misdiagnosed as tonsilitis at first, and I got given antibiotics.
More recently doc diagnosed anxiety and prescribed beta blockers. But they really didn't help. I find that I tend to fall asleep during the day, and my sleeping habits are all over the place, which kinda makes it awkward to control my life, or make any work or social arrangements. Beta blockers made this worse. The only way in which they helped was that they occasionally made me feel a bit more calm if I ever got into a flap about anything. Not that that helps me sort thing out, though. But the doctor thinks I ought to carry on taking them. Obviously I don't. I had hoped that low carbing would help here, but to be totally honest, it hasn't made much difference at all.
I don't feel any better or happier, and it's been the same story for years. I really don't see the point if it's going to carry on like this. The main thing that stops me killing myself or doing anything too dangerous is a bit like that Queer As Folk cocaine overdose porn discovery storyline - I'm worried that relatives will uncover all the things hidden by the clutter in my room that I'm embarrassed about. Like the unusually large stock of paracetamol. And double edged razor blades lying around in all sorts of odd places. Plus other things. Course, if I tidied my flat, then these reasons would no longer apply .....
Oh hey, I don't want to make it out to be worse than it really is, it's embarrassing enough to say all this as it is. Help! Anyone able to offer any words of advice? Thanks.
Course, there's always been the thought in the back of my mind that the only time you go to the doc and make out you're depressed and get your SSRI's is when the bloke that sorts you out with something for the weekend gets busted and you can't nose out a new one ..... but no-one's ever really depressed, are they? I mean, not really? You'd never admit to it really, would you?
Here's my issue. My mum is convinced I'm depressed. Well, okay, maybe not convinced, but she thinks it's depression, she compares the way that I behave to the way that my sister behaves, and when my sister behaves the way I do, she gets given Prozac for it. At least that's what my mum says anyway. And my sister reckons it helps her.
Not that this ever happens to me, though. Not that I want SSRI's for the reasons I've given, but I do want some sort of help. But it's not forthcoming. I've been to see my doctor over ten times this year already. Perhaps my communication skills just aren't very good. He's already asked for, ummm, a break from me for a few months, and wants me to start seeing one of his colleagues in the surgery instead. Hmph. Have I upset him? I didn't mean to .....
I don't know if there's anything clinically wrong with me, but there are a few things about how my life has panned out that I just can't deny, and which don't seem normal to me. They are, the fact that I've lived in the same tiny bedsit for over six years. Most of my neighbours move out after only a few months but I really can't see the point. It's a grim place. I could be more houseproud. There are days when I wake up in the morning, but don't actually get dressed for like, six or eight hours afterwards, because I don't see the point. I struggle to hold down a job for more than a few months at a time, regardless of what it is, and despite schooling and qualifications. Not good at shopping round. Hate shopping at all, in fact, so tend to buy first overpriced things I see. By 'eck does this show on the credit card statements. Sure there's benefits like sick pay but I never bother claiming them - after all, I'm not really ill, am I? Well, I can't convince doctor of it anyway. Perhaps I don't really deserve it.
And what about my friends? Friends? Now and then, I actually have friends. But not very often, I'm a bit aloof. I feel lonely a lot of the time, but am scared of making a fool of myself. Okay, I suppose I'm just scared to meet new people, and don't want to make the effort. When I do have friends, the friendships don't tend to last for more than a few months before I do something really silly that blows it. And I can forget about the idea of anyone wanting a more serious relationship with me, let's face it, it's not going to happen.
Sure I've started low carbing, and sure I'm trying to give up smoking, but I don't really see the point, because I honestly don't feel any better for either of these things. :(
My mum, bless her, she cares. But she seems to be critical of my lifestyle, as if all my health problems are my fault. I don't take it very well, and therefore tend to try to avoid her. Thing is, I know that some of my problems really are my fault, but hey, I don't want to hear that, it doesn't help me now. She's full of advice, but gives it in a way which makes me think that I'm stupid if I don't take it. I guess she probably doesn't intend it to sound like this but that's how I read it. There have been times when I cut my arms with a razor blade within minutes of talking to her.
People are going to say pull yourself together. But I really can't keep putting up the front. I've tried. And it hasn't got me anywhere.
But I don't know, maybe I should stop being so lazy and stupid. I once said straight out to the doctor that I thought I was depressed. He then asked me a few questions, about eating and sleeping habits, which I think I fluffed up the answers to, because I didn't want to come across as sounding stupid. He said that I don't come across as being depressed. And that was that. No-one in the surgery has even wanted to entertain the idea since then.
Maybe they don't want to go down that road because of my history, though? I was rushed into hospital for amphetamine overdose in 1995, which now haunts my medical record. I've also had two fairly serious head injuries, one of which I had to stay in hospital for a week for - oh, and I happened to have glandular fever at the time, although it wasn't diagnosed until later, and was misdiagnosed as tonsilitis at first, and I got given antibiotics.
More recently doc diagnosed anxiety and prescribed beta blockers. But they really didn't help. I find that I tend to fall asleep during the day, and my sleeping habits are all over the place, which kinda makes it awkward to control my life, or make any work or social arrangements. Beta blockers made this worse. The only way in which they helped was that they occasionally made me feel a bit more calm if I ever got into a flap about anything. Not that that helps me sort thing out, though. But the doctor thinks I ought to carry on taking them. Obviously I don't. I had hoped that low carbing would help here, but to be totally honest, it hasn't made much difference at all.
I don't feel any better or happier, and it's been the same story for years. I really don't see the point if it's going to carry on like this. The main thing that stops me killing myself or doing anything too dangerous is a bit like that Queer As Folk cocaine overdose porn discovery storyline - I'm worried that relatives will uncover all the things hidden by the clutter in my room that I'm embarrassed about. Like the unusually large stock of paracetamol. And double edged razor blades lying around in all sorts of odd places. Plus other things. Course, if I tidied my flat, then these reasons would no longer apply .....
Oh hey, I don't want to make it out to be worse than it really is, it's embarrassing enough to say all this as it is. Help! Anyone able to offer any words of advice? Thanks.