OK said the Doc, take these away and read them then come back to see me next week and we can start to fix you up properly.

The things he gave me to read were indeed interesting (if terrifying) reading, even without my glasses. One was a leaflet about anti-depressants and the other was a diary-style self-analysis form, which I’m supposed to fill in before going back to see him.

I am completely convinced that I’m about the most “capable” person on the planet in as much as I can shovel work for England, juggling a massively challenging job that involves long hours and being away from home a lot with trying to have some sort of reasonable quality of life at home so the possibility of being diagnosed with depression is just about the thing that is furthest from my comprehension. I just don’t recognise myself. I just get on with it and never give up. That’s me.

The diary was the thing that really hit me. I have to rate myself on a range of things. Letting people down (every day), hopeless (every day), tired (every day), slow speaking (er – yes, that’s something I’ve been doing lately – losing the thread of what I’m trying to say, struggling to get words out – yes, quite a lot actually), disturbed sleep (remember yesterday – wanting to call my new diary “in between the sleepless nights” – so that’s a yes then).

Oh shit.

So, let’s see what we can see in here…..

hopeless
shot
less
pest
pelt
spent
post

Last year, things were falling apart in a different way!