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Yesterday I went back to my counsellor for what is only my third session after a long holiday break. It felt weird as we hadn’t had time to get started before Christmas really.

I spoke quite animatedly about the positive effects of the SSRI I’m taking, how it gave me energy and motivation, both physical and emotional that meant that I simply achieved more in the day and got off my chair more. I spend less time day dreaming and messing about, more time relaxing properly or concentrating on work. The house is cleaner than it’s been for a while and I’ve had more enthusiasm for writing this blog.

As well as the medication the book that I am going through for this year is also giving me a focus. I think of it as my thought for the day as it gives me something to think about each day in a structured way.

“What is my vision, what do I want to get out of this therapy” she asked. Partly thanks to what I wrote last week I was able to simply say self-respect and the freedom to be me. It’s not complicated really. It’s also what I try and give my children, the freedom and confidence to be who they are without trying to push them into a mould.

I have the rational understanding of what happened and why, and what effect it had but I have been stuck for the last six months or so at starting to move on from that point to integrating that understanding and learning to like and respect myself despite all the crap.

I babbled, possibly more than I’ve ever done in therapy and my hands were waving around as well. I know that much of this is the tablets so in that sense it’s false, but it feels so good to feel good.

I spoke of my children and the double-edged sword that they are: their presence has always stopped me from giving in to depression, from hiding under the duvet and refusing to get out or from withdrawing from the world and that is good. But it’s also meant that I haven’t acknowledged depression before, so I haven’t really tried to deal with it previously. They also provide me with an easy excuse for not being able to do things because I have children. Many of these I will be able to do once they’re older so they are still within my grasp but I also use them to protect me when I don’t want to face the real reasons I have for not doing things.

I also spoke of exercise, of trying once again to include it into my daily routine, that I hadn’t missed a day since I started. I’m doing it first thing in the morning and then a longer session most afternoons or evenings when I feel myself start to slump. I’m trying to recognise the energising power that physical activity has as well as the strength that it brings.

We haven’t quite gelled yet, my counsellor and I. It normally takes 4 or 5 sessions for both of us to sit right with each other and we’re not there.

I felt hugely positive although the fact that it’s partly the medication talking takes away my confidence slightly. I know I wouldn’t be like this without it. It does give me time and space to make this state of being real and that’s what I’ve got to remember.

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