Saw my usual psychiatrist today.
You have depression. You will get better. There is no label to give you that is helpful.
You will be happy. You will work again. Normality will resume. This will go just like it came.
I feel a little more positive. I've delayed my plans from tonight until Friday when I meet my new counsellor. Despite these helpful words I still fail to see a future where I will ever be productive, return to my work both paid and voluntary. To reconnect with my friends and my faith. All I really see is this being forever. Either feeling nothing or desperate sadness.
A life where I serve others. Where I can resume social activities I once enjoyed. When my friends are not afraid of the answer when they ask "How are you?". When this will just be a bad memory rather than a living hell. When I can pray and go to church and feel comfortable and loved and grow rather than shame and anxiety.
It seems as impossible as me climbing mount Everest.
Pretty much exactly 5 months after my last church attendance I returned today. Since my last time I had only seen 3 people from the congregation face to face. People who live in my town. Who I've seen at least twice a week for years, I'd seen so few of them. Children had grown. Newborn babies now starting to move. Barely bumps now earth side. There were a few new faces too. We decided to go today because we had been invited for Sunday lunch by a couple from church. The sweet, kind hearted, godly doctor who was on duty the weekend I was first taken to hospital. I didn't give myself a choice this morning. I'd set up an excuse not to go for lunch already. Our car was broken. It was true, it was, but I knew it would be fixed in time to go. So I got up and we went. I'd spoken with my counsellor about not feeling it was my home any longer. That I wasn't part of the fellowship anymore. That physically I didn't know where to sit. Our usual seats, middle,front, with ...
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