The Condition: The Night Folds Dark.

Prior to Xmas things were bobbing along very nicely thank you.

Over the festive period I became increasingly weak, wobbly, and crumpled.

A new factor broke the surface, grabbed my ankle and dragged me into a deep dark pit of dispair...

...de - press - shun.

No, I can't make light of it, it sucks.

The worse part of the experience is an accompanying insomnia which means I can't get any respite from the gloom.

I've not been to troubled by thoughts of 'ending it all' mainly because this is what I assume being dead yet still alive is like

Zombie-fied if you will.

There's been one significant event that may have triggered this dip, but I'm more murderously angry than depressed about it.

BTW if your one of my 'friends' and know what I'm eluding to don't even think about commenting coz you might just end up getting it both barrels.  
Let me stew, I'll get over it in time.

Revenge, I know, is a dish best served cold, probably in the words of a song rather than something like, say, this:

Another possibility may be the new job, but the details of that are for another post.

Yesterday I gave in and rang the MS nurse who confirmed this is all part of the deal and recommended a visit to the doctors.

Linda (let's not forget depression also reaches out and grabs those around you as well) told me if I didn't make an appointment she would.

I made an appointment.

Depression, in varying degrees, is something I've experienced throughout my life and I've been subjected to various, in the main, useless therapies and treatments.

C.B.T., counselling, and 'talking therapies' seem to be the most useless approach where I'm concerned.

I've been on several counselling training courses and when ever I've found myself on the receiving end I start mentally checking off aspects of the technique during it's delivery (mirroring, underlining, empathy etc.) 

I can't escape the feeling that this approach is 'fake', that 'empathy' is a con, and all that the practitioners I've sat opposite were rubbish at it, or patronising.

It's not for me.

I've been prescribed inceasing doses of SSRI's over the years, but all they seem to do is turn me into a stunned buffalo and have no effect whatsoever on the depression that I end up locked in with.

As far as my GP is concerned this seam hasn't been completely mined-out and I've been prescribed a 15mg dose of Mirtazapine.

After depressing myself even further by 'Googling' this med I took the first dose last night and went out like a light.

I awoke feeling somewhat more optimistic this morning, but that faded as the day went on to level off at 'tolerable'.

I'm being 'watched' because there's a possibility the meds may increase my depression before the effects fully kick in after about two weeks.

I'm aware that this post may seem somewhat 'bleak', but don't worry, I know it's just a cloud passing over the sun.

I'm now going to put my PJ's on, brush my teeth, pop a pill, and....

Zzzzzz, snork, zzzzzzz....