For reasons too numerous and too complex to go into today, I am back on the antidepressants; 40mg Fluoxetine. No messing around; straight into a decent dose of artificial mood-enhancer.
After 16 months of being drug-free, true to form the Black Dog has returned to lay me so low that I question the value of my very existence. This wasn’t a decision taken lightly either by me or my GP. I spent 45 minutes with her yesterday, 5 minutes discussing my recent encounter with kidney stones/renal colic and the rest of the time reasoning the advantages or otherwise of going back on medication for my extreme low mood.
When fully functional, I can argue black is white but I had no defence against her solid and sensible reasoning that good old Prozac will again buy me the time necessary to sort myself out. I am not great at looking after Number 1 and to say that I had a lecture in personal well-being and making sensible choices is an understatement. Everything she said was absolutely true. I can’t deny that but sadly I am not in the position to do what I need to do to recover from this dreadful illness once and for all.
For now, I have to deal with it with the help of chemical intervention (Fluoxetine) and more counselling/talking therapy until such time that I can wave goodbye to it forever. At 50 years young, I am fast running out of time and options but I am still determined to die happy.
What an achievement that will be.