I shared in (probably too much) detail back in August how my mood stabiliser was causing me rather unpleasant side effects and how the duty psychiatrist had advised me to reduce my dose, which I duly did. Unfortunately along with the decrease in the medication came the mood changes I feared. I had been doing reasonably well prior to the change, but in real terms I have now been struggling with depression since the end of August. As I had been on holiday, and some low mood to follow is not unusual I didn’t panic initially. I felt I had to settle into the new dose. But five weeks on, when I was still finding just existing difficult to cope with, my nurse spoke to my consultant and it was agreed the dose should be put up again to a figure between the original dose and the current one. Unfortunately this created a whole new challenge. The doctor wanted me on a dose of 850mg. The tablets are only manufactured in denominations of 250 or 500mg and must not be cut. So an intricate plan of 750 and 1000mg on alternate days was devised. Excellent if you have a memory. I don’t. I use a dosage box when I have enough motivation to keep it filled. In between I sometimes end up medicating ad hoc. I have pretended I have a handle on this, but the truth is, I’m not doing well. The good news is I’ve had no side effects at all since August. The bad news is I’m depressed as hell and increasingly getting worse.

My nurse had persuaded me to attend an Emotional Coping Skills course which started last week. It’s a twelve week commitment and although I’d done it a couple of years previously, we’d agreed I could probably get more from it. Oh my living hell, it was excruciating. My anxiety was higher than ever. We were crammed in a far-too-small room. I had nothing in common with the other participants, most of whom were very young. Or men. I absolutely hated every minute of it and my depression and anxiety have been worse than ever since. It is just not something I can do right now. I hate quitting but this is about self preservation. With hindsight I can see how I let my nurse talk me into it despite my reservations, but with my weekly therapy, caring for Dad and trying to get him to his appointments, going to choir and my own appointments, it was unrealistic to try to take on anything else right now.

As a direct result of trying to over stretch myself last week I had a massive panic attack at choir Friday. I was then too exhausted to attend the choir workshop Saturday and missed the pharmacist, meaning I ran out of my night medication. So last night I didn’t fall asleep until 7am when I was able to get about three hours kip. That’s totally messed today up and will probably knock on all week. I’m in a mess.

I left a message for the community mental health team this morning. My nurse was off but I was assured I would be called back by a support worker. It never happened. I’ve made an appointment with my GP. First appointment I could get? December 4th. Psychiatrist is supposed to be reviewing the medication after a month. Nothing. I’m weary and tearful and my thoughts are becoming darker by the day. I just want the pain to end.

👼🏻