Never once, during any of my bouts of depression, had I been inclined or able to pick up a telephone and ask a friend for help. It wasn’t in me. – Kay Redfield Jamison
Today’s blog picks up where Blog #26, posted on 9/5/2016, left off. For the sake of continuity, I recommend referring to it before reading the following blog.
The easiest way to find Blog #26 is to visit my website.
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At night, I would go home and hope that the phone would not ring. I did not want to deal with any problems, or talk to my friends. I wanted to be left alone. I spent the evenings on the couch staring at the TV, or having a few drinks, sometimes more than a few.
When I finally could stand it no longer, I made an appointment with a physician. He took my blood pressure, listened to my heart and lungs, and looked into my eyes, ears, and throat. When he asked me what seemed to be the problem, I described how I had been feeling. He did not seem impressed. I left his office with a prescription for a mild tranquilizer, and a few words of reassurance.
I took the pills as prescribed—no more, no less. After three weeks, I felt worse.
The depression was now oppressive. My energy level was at an all-time low, and I was beginning to slur my words. I stopped taking the pills.
After several weeks, I felt better—better only in the sense that I felt the same as I did before taking the medication.
I should have called the doctor and told him how the medication was affecting me, but I felt frustrated, embarrassed, and resentful.
“The hell with it,” I thought. Sooner or later this feeling has to end. It always has before, and it will again. And, to my surprise, it did. – Excerpt from “I’m Afraid”
I offer these thoughts for your consideration.
Welcome to my World!
The saga continues in my next blog.
Do Not Be Afraid!!!