Turning the Corner

In my previous blog I mentioned that I was undergoing counselling for endogenous depression. One of the main reasons for starting this blog was to give me an outlet for the way I feel as one of the many sufferers of this often debilitating condition. Hopefully it won’t be all doom and gloom, and I’m sure by doing so it will help me, and with any luck, help other sufferers too.

This is my third series of counselling sessions. The first was mainly me doing all the talking, with the counsellor mostly listening. It had the effect of getting a lot of issues out in the open. And, really helpfully, leaving them there like a festering wound until I got my next series of counselling some six months later.

The second batch of counselling sessions was more interactive. I still did most of the talking, but the counsellor did more steering, asked more questions. This time there were answers as well as issues, but the answers came from me, not from the counsellor. So now we were getting somewhere, even if we were only developing coping mechanisms for the symptoms of the depression and not resolving its underlying causes. And then that’s where we left it for another year. It was enough for a while, then the depression returned and something more was needed.

Now I’m doing psychodynamic therapy. I don’t pretend to understand the science behind it, but it seems to revolve around recalling incidents from the past, replaying them, talking about how I felt at the time and how I feel now and then relating them to problem situations that I face in my present-day life. And somehow the occasional “eureka” moment happens when I work out how I should deal with my current issues, based on an understanding of the underlying root cause rather than the sticking plaster approach I had before. 

It’s a very difficult but extremely rewarding process. There have been tears. It has actually triggered bouts of depression and made life awful for those around me during those times. But it’s also helped me hugely to begin to understand myself and how I relate to the people and situations in my life. And it’s only now that I’m beginning to realise the power of this technique and there are signs emerging that I’m starting to turn the corner.

My eating is back under control. I’ve been doing Slimming World all year, with a lot of success over the first six months. Then I lost my way for a while, losing weight some weeks more by luck than design, only to put it back on again the following week, never achieving consistent week on week losses. This week, for the first time in ages, I’ve been able to stick to the plan all week and have had a good, genuine weight loss as a result. There have been times this week when my natural instinct would have been to binge eat for comfort, but I’ve been in control enough this week to resist those destructive urges and keep on plan. I haven’t had a drink for over a week either. And, more importantly, I feel really good as a result, and really want to do it again this week.

I’m running again most days. Running, along with music, is really my thing for shaking off depression. It’s my time; just me, a pair of trainers and the open road. It’s my thinking time, when I can switch off the world and luxuriate in whatever thoughts come into my head. I haven’t run much lately, initially because of a genuine injury, but latterly because of my state of mind causing that injury to persist longer in my head than in my ankle. Now I’m running again, the sweat and endorphins are flowing and it feels good.

I’m also managing damage limitation a lot better. When I’m at my lowest, even the most stupid of incidents can set me back days. My fragile confidence can be shattered by the most trivial criticism, failure or frustration and the depression soon avalanches out of control. This week I’ve had a number of incidents that could potentially have snowballed. But I’ve found the strength somewhere within me to say “it’s only an argument with my son”, “it’s only a hall full of noisy Cubs not doing as they’re told”, or “it doesn’t matter if I can’t do that stupid dance for the panto!” Although, at the time, I’ve genuinely been deeply frustrated or upset by each incident, I’ve been able to limit the impact of each incident to that particular moment in time rather than let it spiral out of control and negatively influence my judgement of subsequent situations.

And although I can’t put my finger on exactly why, I think it’s down to the counselling and to the understanding I’ve gained of why I’m like I am. It’s not a tangible understanding that I could explain in words to anyone else, but it’s an understanding nonetheless and it’s really helping.

It’s a difficult and painful journey and of course I understand there will undoubtedly be further setbacks round the corner, but it’s just so good to feel like I’m making some progress at last.

And my advice to anyone out there reading this and thinking this all sounds a bit familiar? Bite the bullet. Get some help. It’s out there, but it won’t come to you. Don’t suffer in silence. Talk to someone - a friend, a colleague, your GP.  There’s no shame in it, it’s just an illness, no different to the flu or diarrhoea. I was amazed how many fellow sufferers I met just by talking to people. And then get some professional help. I was lucky enough to get referred by my GP onto a series of workshops run by the local Community Mental Health Team. The workshops covered depression, self-esteem, assertiveness and CBT and taught me some really good coping mechanisms to tide me over until I got into counselling. And I’m lucky enough to have an understanding employer, a very patient girlfriend and a great network of supportive friends – when I let them!

Next blog will be a much cheerier affair. Promise.