Jul 29, 2012

The standard treatment

It's good to be away, and it's good to come home, We went to my inlaws cabin by the sea again, and it was exactly what I needed. A lot of sleep, and a lot of sea and trees and blueberrypicking. When I needed a rest, I could take it, but when I got bored, there were my family, just outside the door, doing something silly and inviting me to join in. We bathed in the sea, we went out in the canoe, we went to a sandy beach, we went to a fair, and we walked the dogs a lot. I think I fell a little back in love with both of them, both the two-year-old and the forty-two-year-old. I have amazing darlings!

And when we left home five days ago the depression was... depressing. Opressing. I was weighed down, and most prominent was the obvious lack of joy. I had no happy. No happy feelings, nothing was fun, nothing was enjoyable. I did a lot of things that I usually like doing, and it did nothing for me.

But I kept on doing them. And today, I actually felt happy for a moment. I think maybe I did yesterday too. The trick is to keep bombarding my stagnant brain with things it has to react to, and keep doing things that usually brings joy, even if I don't feel any, and eventually, it will come back to me. I know it will. My textbooks says so... And I've decided to believe that I will function like most people, and that the standard treatment of depression will work on me too.

Behavioural activation, it's called. That, and Citalopram. I'm doing both.

And everytime I get snappy with Mistress, she says it's the meds. She might very well be right, too.

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