The little blue light of my soundcard blinks every second-and-a-half or so, asking me to switch it on. I'm not going to.
"Here Comes The Sun" is breaking the overbearing silence of my room right now.
The smell of beef is drifting from the kitchen, making me ravenously hungry.
I found out yesterday that my depression may have been a misdiagnosis. This angers me for several reasons. If I have been misdiagnosed :-
1) Why did my GP simply pass it off as depression in the first place? Surely one would place more emphasis on discovering a deeper rooted psychological issue?
2) Have I been taking medication that hasn't been aiding my recovery? Moreover, have I been taking medication that has been HINDERING my recovery, possibly with detrimental effects on my body?
3) Am I ever going to get better? Or am I now doomed to spend the rest of my life taking medication, having talking therapies of varied types and unable to conduct a proper life of working, earning money, forming relationships etc?
4) If it turns out to be a psychological disorder, why has it taken 25 years to discover I have said affliction?
5) If I have to go through a whole 'nother round of therapies, have I wasted valuable time fixing something I may not have?
A very close friend of mine refers to us (being me, her and several other sufferers of "Invisible Illnesses") as 'Veterans of the war', and now, I feel like a fraud. I have neither reason nor evidence to argue my point to her, but that is currently how I feel.
And no matter how hard I try, I can't shake the thoughts...