I haven’t blogged for 2 weeks now. And before then, my blogging has been less and less frequent. A while back I spoke of feeling crappy and run-down, and before that, I blogged about a fear of slipping into depression again. My reason for going back all of that way? And forcing you to re-read my rantings??

I’ve been struggling to stay on top of everything, keep all of the balls in the air, all that jazz. Not coping with much these days, in a nutshell. This has been going on for months.

I sucked it up, made a doctors appointment, where my bloods came up with no physical reason I should be feeling so crappy. In fact, my bloods were perfect, even my iron levels! I was quite shocked by that!

I also made an appointment to speak with a counsellor. I had written down everything that I have been feeling- tired, run-down, not interested in sex at all, angry, blah, blah. She has booked me into the doctor again, this time for a diagnosis of depression.

My brain went “WTF! I’m not depressed! I’m not crying all the time or wanting to kill myself!”.

But the more I thought about it, I realised that she was right.

I’m not too sure how I feel about a diagnosis of depression, but the counsellor re-assured me that it wasn’t something to be ashamed of, and that it was treatable.

I went home in a state of disbelief. I didn’t think anything would come up from it, and I’d continue feeling crappy for a while- I’d grow out of it. I told DF last night. He didn’t know what to say, so he just hugged me. I apologised! I don’t know why. I don’t like to see him upset. We’ll get through this.

Depression. I never thought I’d be saying it again.