I pottered off to the GP, more to update him on my health than because of an identified issue. I blathered, as I do, and he decided to change my medication. Oh, ok. That was a surpise, but he knows what he’s about.
Then I read the Very Important Read Me Now Before You Do Anything leaflet that came with the new tablets. That never feels like a good idea because it lists all the possible side effects, and then I think I have them all. I didn’t notice those this time because I was busy being disconcerted. “This medication treats major depression.”
Ah, now. Surely I’m not as bad as that. Remember the losing weight/ haircut/positive vibe thing I had going on?
I know that antidepressants are prescribed to deal with the symptoms of ME/CFS, anxiety etc as well, but it was certainly a bit of a gunk to read “major depression”. I had resisted any form of medication for depression for at least 4 years because in my head it would mean that I had ‘failed’ somehow- that I didn’t have the inner resources to deal with life, the universe, and prolonged chronic illness. I got over that notion and took the tablets. I realised the benefits. I’ve done things in the last year I couldn’t have dreamt of for years before that- blogging, for instance. It would now be ridiculous to complain to the GP about ongoing brain fog, and then protest at his attempts to deal with that.
Then I realised. The GP took one look at me in the sparkly specs and thought “There must be something wrong with that woman’s head…. Time to up the dose.”