Saturday for a while has been a bleak place. I haven’t posted anything in a long time because… well I guess I’ve been depressed.
I’ve had exhaustion issues on and off since April which have meant my usual Saturday anti- depressant of going for a MTB ride has become too tiring for me to do. So I’m left to my own devices, and being tired I’ve tended to do nothing. (Unless you count reading books back to back all day as ‘something’.) I’m currently still in bed (11am right now) which the cat thinks is great, having played numerous games, watched cute animal videos and caught up on some articles I saved during the week. Fortunately today I feel up-beat for a change, I’m not completely exhausted and I’m not upset/frustrated by my inability to go and ride with my mates. I think this might be because someone suggested perhaps I should just go do uplift days for a bit – and it got me thinking. One of the things that feeds my depression is not having a solution to a problem, so I don’t have the energy to pedal? Get in a bus and just go downhill, it’s the part I really love about mountain biking anyway! Also I’m working out a plan to own a horse which has been my dream since I was about 3. Stu mentioned that he often switches between love of different forms of cycling – for the last 2 years it’s been road, but he loves MTBing in the Alps. And I think I understand – local riding options are now a bit boring, and as he drives around for a living getting back in a van on a Saturday doesn’t fill him with joy. So perhaps mountain biking might take a little bit of a back seat while I invest my time, money and what energy I have into what I love right now.
So, time to get up and deal with some things that depression always leaves me with – the mess, piles of things I didn’t have the mental or physical capacity to deal with!
Hopefully I’ll be back into blogging now I’ve dealt with my writing blockage – I’ve got no fewer that 6 posts in the pending box!
*the more observant may notice the cat has changed. Sadly Toot died in June which was devastating, but the cat shaped hole in my life couldn’t stay empty so Cocoa came to us from Cats Protection. A confident, child hating 8 year old who we absolutely adore!
It’s a Saturday morning, and I should be getting ready or on my way to some form of MTB adventure because that’s what Saturdays are for.
But I’m not. I’m in my dressing gown. Crying.
It’s the first time I’ve had a proper cry since February 2016, when I started taking antidepressants. It seems like the last few months have taken their toll.
At the end of November I came down with some kind of a sickness bug where I constantly felt nauseous and could barely eat anything. I managed to get a bit of my strength back and had a steady ride at Sherwood Pines during the Christmas break. In January we went on a great snowboarding holiday. In February I was diagnosed with Parry Romberg syndrome. In March I had a bout of sinutisits, followed by an amazing splitboarding holiday. I came back from that holiday hoping to use the fitness I had gained to get back into cycling. Unfortunately it didn’t work and I had the worst exhausted phase I can remember. So April was spent trying to get lots of sleep, eat healthily and do gentle exercise. I got another bout of sinusitis and then my van broke down.
So here I am, half a stone heavier, unfit, lost my bike-confidence and trying to just get out of bed.
I posted up in a Facebook group I’m part of (MTB chix and trails) and asked what other people had done in similar situations, and got such amazing supportive responses. But then that got too much for me and I haven’t been back on Facebook or twitter since.
I was thinking this morning while getting ready as I always do, but today it was about medication specifically.
I’m asthmatic, and have to take 2 puffs twice a day of an inhaler, which stops me feeling like my chest has some kind of very restrictive corset on.
I also have depression, and have to take 2 20mg tablets every day, which stops me feeling like my brain has some kind of very restrictive corset on.
This year I’d set myself a goal of reducing the anti-depressants to 20mg a day.
Today I asked myself why I’d felt the need to set myself this goal, I wouldn’t do it with the inhaler, after all.
I realised that I’d put this pressure on myself because anti-depressants are, at least initially, viewed like a plaster. You put a plaster on to keep a wound clean, and help the healing process. And for some people this is exactly what anti-depressants do – help them get back on track, start and maintain their healing process until they feel like they don’t need them any more. But what if for me I need them like I need my inhaler?
So today I gave myself permission to not feel any pressure on this subject, to drop my ‘goal’. If I need to be on these tablets long term what’s the problem? Mental health is like any other form of health issue, so why treat the medication for it like a temporary fix?
And along with this I’d set goals of blogging twice a month. Well I’ve obviously succeeded at that… (NOT)* so in the name of reducing pressure I’m going to forgive myself and just blog when I can/feel inspired. Because what’s the point in forcing something?
*Wayne’s World is 25 years old. This terrifies me!
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