Day 71

The day of the dreaded, yet long-awaited appointment.

I felt pretty anxious in the morning but I also felt really quite happy (possibly still from last night). Around midday the anxiety began to get too much to bear. I couldn't focus on things and couldn't wait till I could go and see Lizzie.

Once on my way, I felt a little better but was still quite all over the place and very restless at Lizzie's.

And then the time arrived.

I'd say it was a nice appointment, despite the fact I was extremely emotional, with times of massive desperation.

Lucy had a questionnaire on her desk which is what she usually gives me at the end of an appointment to bring to the next appointment. This (perhaps thankfully) fooled me into thinking it was going to turn out that there would be another appointment in the future. It's ok, I told myself, this isn't the end after all.

She asked me how I had been getting on, how I had been coping, whether I had been able to keep some structure in my weeks... I can't especially remember the details but she seemed very pleased I was doing this blog. And that I felt like I could be open with certain friends like Lizzie. As long as I wasn't reassurance checking. I reassured her (haha) that Lizzie knew she wasn't meant to give me reassurance.

Lucy said it sounded like I was doing the right things but the anxiety about getting better was holding me back. We talked about whether I had a plan for my future, something to work towards. I told her that the future filled me with fear. Perhaps, in fact, that is a big reason for not wanting to get better: somehow, being depressed makes me feel like I am putting time on hold. This, of course, is not true, but it feels it.

Taking the future one day at a time, one hour even makes it feel less threatening, I guess.

Lucy was saying how everyday when she gets up she doesn't know what she is going to face. She expects there will be some nice bits, some boring bits, fun times, times when she might be tired, hungry or bored. But nothing anywhere near terrible. And then when she goes home there might be some good bits and some not so good bits. But she can choose to do something that brings her pleasure. She said that I was expecting the worst.

I felt like often I think that I am going to be fine and that fills me with fear and confusion. At the time I thought that was contradictory to what Lucy was saying I was like so I felt a bit fraudulent. I now realise that actually it fits with what she was saying: I am expecting my worst fears (that I am fine) to be true. I guess it leaves me pleasantly surprised when I feel especially low (small bonus to help through the depression. Lucy concluded that it really is no wonder I am so confused! I agreed.

So anyway we talked about how I feel trapped and it is fear that is paralysing me and holding me back and the best way to deal with this is to take small steps. At the end of the day though, Lucy said it was my choice. If I would prefer to stay where I am, I can. Except I don't think that is fair on others. I don't think God wants me to stay like this.

Just to add to the confusion that is my head, we talked about my fear of never being free of OCD and depression. Really my life is easy at the moment - as in I don't have a stressful job, a dying parent, a physical illness etc. I just don't think I would cope if one of those things happened. Lucy said people often found the opposite was true. Something about life not always being easy. Challenges come along, sometimes we are happy, sometimes we are sad. But being sad is part of being human, it doesn't mean we are depressed. She was also saying something about the richness of life and bad things helping motivate people to live their lives to the full.

I could not understand how this would be possible at all. Dying as a concept, to me, is something that is only bearable since I became a Christian. I explained to Lucy that when I think I am wrong about Christianity and that dying is the end, that causes me to totally despair and I just can't handle it. But even when I do believe I am right about Christianity, I sometimes get it into my head that I could never go to heaven and will end up in hell. That is scary. I explained that even though I know that I won't go to hell, I don't believe it in these times. And, I continued, when I believe I am going to heaven, I often feel scared about that. Even though, again, I am emotionally reasoning and logically know it will be wonderful. I just don't feel it.

It was a bit hard saying all this because Lucy isn't a Christian. And actually for ages I had been stuck on what to say because of that. She did say though that I needed to remember that OCD will attack me with recurring negative thoughts. I need to not emotionally reason and recognise them as lies.

I didn't want to be alive but I didn't want to be dead. I felt stuck. I didn't know what to say. In the end I announced that I just wanted to be better but without this horrible process of getting better. Once I am fine, these things won't be issues. But Lucy reminded me life is never going to be free of struggles. I guess Jesus warns us of that. I have eternity to look forward to, if I can. But argh, life is so hard!

Somehow the discussion changed to it being the end of seeing her. Now any of my previous worries were wiped away and were replaced by my total distress that I would never see her again. I felt like I was a toddler, sobbing away. Half of me wanted to stop crying but the other half wanted to get it out.

I think it helped when she said she would always remember me and that she would still be in the service and there were ways of me getting back into the service.

I was a nightmare to get out of the building though. Lucy tried to make me star jump and dance around in the corridor to bring me back to the here and now (oh yes, she was reminding me about mindfulness earlier too). I was rolling about on the wall, unable to get myself out. I didn't want it to be the end. But it had to come at some point. She gave me a hug and, after some further struggles to leave, I eventually did depart.

I wanted to go to a safe place. I didn't want to go home or to Church for Roots. I wondered whether I was just being rebellious. I thought for a little bit I was OK. Anyway, I arranged to see Alice. My mood completely dropped as I was needing to get ready to go. I was so depressed and struggled to have the energy to keep going.

At times during the evening, I felt a bit better. Or I was distracted.

When I got home I decided to watch a program about whether Amanda Knox is guilty. It upset me and set me off crying again!

Suddenly I felt scared, petrified I had got Christianity wrong and that I was alone in this world. I tried to console myself by looking at the list of evidence I made a while ago for Christianity. It helped a fair amount but I still felt scared. I just had to tell myself that rationally I did believe it, even if my feelings indicated otherwise.