Motherhood, Madness, God and Me

I know I will come in in an hour and say I am fine. You will either say that I'm not, write a prescription and send me away assuring me that I will be OK. One day. Or you may believe me if I'm convincing. Or maybe today you will finally give up and accept defeat. We both know that it's a dance we do every week, fortnight or month. I remain immensely grateful that you are kind and that you do fight for me. I can't find the words though. Not really. Sometimes if you ask the right questions you might get an insight. I don't know how to make the words come out. That I am totally out of control and can't stop myself and I'm terrified and terribly ashamed. I don't know how to say that it has been incredibly difficult this morning not to neck all my pills and take myself off somewhere to sleep. That Susanna and I have talked how I am able to step away and make a choice, that I did yesterday and have, so far, done this morning. This is why I am so very ash...

I won't name. I wish I could but I shouldn't. I visited my GP today. I was expecting the usual sympathetic and kind but fairly unproductive 10 minute appointment. My appointments always start the same. Dr: So, how are you? Me: Fine Dr: You are still stuck.       You poor, poor thing.       This is so bloody awful and unfair.                Should we try a week of this?       You are a worry.       I am going to get you help today. His manner is sweet and often desperate. He's a prisoner of bureaucracy. Of funding cuts. I never feel seeing him is a waste of my time, even if nothing new comes out of it. I do worry it is a waste of his and feel guilty every time he books a repeat appointment. He has chased second opinions, questioned diagnoses, supported my husband, stayed late. He's made me tea several times. ...

So ....your GP informs you he has spoken to a lovely, sensible lady who wants to come up with a decent plan to support you. They will phone you to discuss. Midnight arrives and you hear a hammering at your door as 2 people turn up unannounced and don't listen to anything you say. They've read your notes and assume your children are on a child protection plan and that you are having group therapy. Neither are true and are judgements based on documentation that is disputed by other professionals. They do not seem to believe that nothing recently has triggered this and seem to think it's some whim and you've now changed your mind. There is nothing they can offer. Phone if you need to. They repeat the same over and over. Go into therapy with an open mind. Call us and we will help you. Followed by that  there is nothing they can do to help you. You tell them you have missed your opportunity for now. You are tired. You are fed up of being judged and belittled. You agree t...

I am very lucky to have an amazing GP. He is holistic. He cares for our whole family. I feel awful for taking up so much of his time, and obviously his thoughts too. Here is what I would like him to know. Dear Dr, When I was first told to make an appointment after seeing a locum doctor I didn't know how lucky I was to be booked in with you. Your gentle, calming manner. The mild obscenities to sympathise with how awful depression is. The way you never accepted OK as an answer and never hurried me out of your surgery. Your ability to look further than a forced smile, which is more than most people have been able to do. I read your comment on my notes "deceptively smiley". The obvious concern in your face made me feel awful but that perhaps I was important to someone. The way you have cared for my husband, chased appointments for my daughter, fought our corner with social services are things I am particularly grateful for. I am sorry that you lost some sleep over me. I...