I took my tales of woe, my melodrama and my muddled head along to the GP.
I cried, and scared the student.
GP listened and nodded and asked. He let me burble and drip and snuffle. He handed me the whole box of tissues.
And then he told me I was normal. Oh, the relief! He highlighted all the positives. My ability to be engaged and enthused and interested (severely lacking at that point, but I’d mentioned being Tigger at the Summer School) told him all he needed to know about my underlying mood. Despite the messy make up, and anxiety at feeling so rubbish, I’m as healthy as ever.
The blip is just that. A dip. A reaction. Frustrating. it will happen.
It may happen more often if my energy doesn’t keep up with my ambition.
Watch out world for more grumbling.
Probably from all the folk in the GP waiting room- by the time I left, it was standing room only in there.
* for the overseas reader, ‘grand’, in Ireland, is generally used as ‘fine’, ‘ok’, ‘acceptable’, ‘nothing worth getting too excited about’ etc