Mental health is a bitch, and that's okay.

I don’t want this blog to focus on mental health, because there are much better and more well-informed writers to do it and frankly, it’s a little too depressing for me (pardon the wording). However, it is focused on my day-to-day life and today I had a doctor’s appointment – nothing major, just a new prescription. I was expecting to be in and out with barely a word uttered between us. Then again, that’s just because my doctor is a grumpy sod who likes to see the back of me.

The appointment ended up being so much more though.

He made me repeat a test (a PHQ-9, basically a test to see where you place on a scale of 1-27 of how shit your life is) which gave me a 22 the first time I stepped into the GP. Just three months later I got a score of 13, which really isn’t that far from a ‘normal’ person. We talked about all the cool projects I’d started over summer, such as my cross stitch business, and he ended the session by telling me that in four months’ time we can think about taking me off of my antidepressants.

Now I know this isn’t the end and that there’s still a battle to face, but there’s finally a light at the end of my tunnel. It’s going to be a constant fight throughout my life, but I’m starting to think I could win the war. Maybe people aren’t just bullshitting when they tell you things will get better. Besides, these clichéd sayings often have an air of truth.

I’ve started today chuffed to bits with myself and you know what? I’m allowed to be.