Black Dog returns

It didn't take much for the black dog to come crawling back.

What might seem to others a minor event, to me what happened at work was a setback.  And from heading away from the world of anti-depressants, having dramatically cut my intake in recent months, I was back to a doubling of the prescription.

I was getting better too.  I had more confidence about my life, my work and I felt better, mentally and physically.

The anxiety had largely dissipated although I still had madly stressful days when my brain seized up.  But as long as I prepared properly and recognised the stress traps, I'd struggle through; get by.  Not so many dizzy spells, which I had convinced myself were physical symptoms of an immediate heart attack or stroke, and less in the way of frightening palpitations when I thought my heart would explode out of my chest.

The depression was at bay.  I felt I was dealing with it.  I was writing a lot and I was playing golf obsessively.  I was occupying my mind.

I've been pretty sure for a while, since a head test, that ADHD was possibly the deep rooted cause of my woes.  The indications were such that it was near certain I had it.  But despite the compulsive urge to do something, which usually meant nothing, else every five minutes, I struggled through.

Then the knock back.

I couldn't speak for crying, I couldn't breathe slowly as the heartbeat went through the roof.  I went to the doctor and was given a fit note which meant I wasn't fit.  My drug addiction was not about to be broken.  My blood pressure was at mad levels.  In short, I felt my head was about to explode.  My temples were at bursting point.  Only a fellow nutter would understand how that feels.

The drugs, after a few (literally) nauseous weeks, are starting to kick in ever so slightly and the edge is knocked off my depression so I am not at the end of my tether on a permanent basis.  I still have my moments with outrageous mood swings and a desire to be on my own when I with others and to be with others when I am alone.  But there's nothing new about that.

The most dispiriting thing is that the black dog is still here.  I thought he was leaving my life, with his tail firmly between his legs.  I'd seen him off.

But I may have become complacent and I now need to start again.

That's very hard to take.