I was due to attend a regular check-up appointment with my GP yesterday, to discuss the ongoing progress of my current depressive episode, and how I’m finding my medication this time around. Depression has been a recurring issue for me over my lifetime, so I’m used to these uncomfortable appointments and the kinds of difficult converations they require.
I told my GP I was feeling much better than last time we met, and he asked me how much better – if my first visit a couple of months ago had been scored at zero percent, and perfectly well again would be 100%, what percentage did I feel at right now? I thought about it, and answered quite honestly – about 50%. We had a frank chat about this and the upshot is my medication strength has been increased – apparently after this length of time on my current dose I would ideally be sitting at about 80-85%.
So I left with a new prescription and a seeping sinking feeling of failure, as if in spite of my best efforts I had just received a progress report saying ‘Could do better’… I went home and went straight to bed in tears, upset not to be improving more. But my husband hugged me close and reminded me that however disappointed I felt, what matters most is I’m voluntarily getting the help I need to get better again, whatever it takes.
And sure enough after yesterday’s misery the world looks a little brighter today. It may be a bitter pill for me to swallow but I took my required increase in medication without a fuss this morning and am just getting on quietly with getting myself better the best way I can… 🙂