You Touched it, You Saved it

The first time it hit me, I was living alone, away from home, and I had no idea what was happening to me.

Everything stressed me, most things made me cry, but it was only when I crawled inside a quilt and shut myself in a cupboard and cried I realised that I was ill.

I called the doctor and told them I needed to speak to someone, the receptionist asked if I was pregnant; she obliviously was looking for some reason why I would be howling down the phone. "If it were that simple", I said.

And so began my relationship with medication.

My doctor here at home is brilliant, and understands. There isn't anything "wrong" with me, I have a chemical imbalance and it can be brought back into line with a little help.

95% of the time now, I am absolutely fine. Life and Soul of the party, bright and breezy, happy and cheery. But that other 5%.....

When it arrived on Tuesday, it came out of the blue, and brought the blue with it. I couldn't lift myself at all, and of course the quieter I became, the more curious people were, which only compounds the problem. Questions lead to frustration and frustration leads to tears.

I came home, I had a cuddle with Si; I explained to the kids I wasn't myself, and they should just ignore me, I would be back soon. It's a good sign of how long it was since I've sagged, since Toolibelle couldn't remember seeing me like this before.

But now, I'm back. It lifted today, went as quickly as it came. Tonight, Tooli and I went down to buy her "supplies" for Rockness, and we giggled in the car, I said, "I'm back"; Tooli said, "I noticed, I'm glad".

And I'm glad too!