Through November and December (and possibly some of October, I can't really remember now), I was having some REALLY wicked mood swings. I mean the kind where one minute I was happy and enjoying myself, and the next I was bursting into tears for no reason, and then as suddenly as it started, it would stop again. I was having a burst of good days, then a handful of bad ones. I had to adopt a new system where I'd get as much work done on the good days as possible, because there was no telling when a bad day would come and set me back. I went to see my GP, who said that because of the relatively high dosages of medication that I'm on, wanted to consult with a psychiatrist first to see what should be done. She didn't alter my meds at all, and I continued with the same prescription.

Fast forward to today. First of all, it took OVER A MONTH to get that appointment with the psychiatrist. I'm not particularly surprised, just annoyed. And then, when I did get the appointment, it was for ANOTHER month later. But fine, whatever, there's not a lot I can do about that. I just carried on as usual and finished up the semester. Then I went home for the holidays, spent some time in Florida, and it was JUST what I needed. I have been pretty zen for the past few weeks. I'm not attributing that to anything other than the fact that I'm currently not in classes, my exams are all literature exams (there's not a whole lot of studying you can do for those ones besides reading the material), and I'm not really homesick because I'm going home again when exams are over. I generally feel pretty good every year around this time. The appointment I waited two months for was really an annoyance today, because I'm feeling generally fine. 3/4 of the time, I AM fine. I'm me. The meds and therapy are definitely working. But it's the other 1/4 that worries me, because when the black moods hit, they're HORRIBLE.

So I met the psychiatrist today, and he sat down and said, "Tell me about yourself." Since my diagnosis, I have told my life story six individual times. I am TIRED of telling my life story. First of all, I can't get it all in in a single visit anyway, and secondly, it's just weird for me to have to sit down with yet another total stranger and talk about very intimate details about my life, my family, my relationships, etc. I am not a particularly open person to begin with. Under normal circumstances, it takes me a long time to open up about that stuff with ANYONE. I have had friends for years I still don't talk to about these things. I force myself to tell the doctors and therapists because I know it's confidential, I know they're professionals, and I know they need these details in order to help me, but that doesn't make it any less uncomfortable, and I'm tired of doing it!! I wish I could just keep a file or something I could hand them, let them read the whole things for themselves to save me having to repeat myself over and over. Being so wearied by the process of telling my story, I tend to skim over things as well, so I know I didn't really give him enough details. I was just trying to get the whole thing OUT. And then, of course, being that this was one of my better days mood-wise, the psychiatrist decided he would leave things as they are and check back with me in a month. So. Now I am seeing two doctors in Scotland, one doctor in Canada, plus my counsellor. The sheer amount of TIME I spend in appointments is unbelievable. Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful for their help and there's no way I could battle this depression on my own. But I'm starting to wonder if maybe it IS time for me to take more of this on myself, if medicine and therapy can only go so far and the final step to wellness is mine. Maybe the meds have done all they can, and that last, lingering bit of depression is entirely situational in nature and will only be dealt with by dealing with my situation. I can sit and talk about my feelings for hours on end, but it's been a long time since I've had anything new to say. Maybe I just can't be helped by anyone else, not anymore. Maybe now I just have to help myself.

There's a scary thought.