Well, usually I'd post this on a blog, or Facebook, or tell someone, or something. But since I deleted my livejournal account in a fit of anxiety (re-reading old posts is not a good idea, people, especially when you're on a downer already), and I don't trust most of my friends on Facebook with the innermost workings of my head, and because it took me this long to post this to the faceless masses of "those who stumble upon my DA account" let alone tell anyone face to face... here it is I know some of my real life friends (and occasionally, I think, one of my brothers) do sometimes check up on me here, but those who care enough to understand my intermittent scribbles will care enough to admit that I'm not ENTIRELY mad and screw loose.

So, I finally got around to going to my GP at the end of last year about my suspected SAD. After describing symptoms (hopelessness, sleeplessness, low energy levels, even mild suicidal thoughts) I was diagnosed with said SAD. Unfortunately, NHS treatment for this disorder is incredibly limited (disgraceful imho), so I had to shell out nearly £100 for a lightbox. In retrospect, I'm glad I did - I use it for 30 mins most mornings and it has sorted out my sleep patterns a treat: I can sustain concentration, and don't need to constantly snack just to keep myself awake.

Unfortunately, it's been several months now, and I'm still suffering horrible anxiety and mild depression. So much so that I've caused several horrible arguments with my boyfriend, Ben, and even my long-suffering mother last weekend when I blurted out at her that I felt isolated and disconnected from my family because we never communicate on anything other than superficial matters. I proceeded to cry at her for about half an hour, plus. My family I can cope with, because we all have communication problems with that bunch and it's always been that way so I expect it, and you can't choose your family, eh? However, arguments with the person you live with are unbearable, especially as I love him fiercely, and I know it's reciprocated. I hate that I've become a self-saboteur, and we have a few times now gone for days without saying more than a handful of words to each other, all because I'm too proud to admit that it IS my fault.

Part of it is a social anxiety. Part of it is a general anxiety. Part of it is a fear of abandonment. All of these together carry a typical trait of the guilty party reinforcing negative beliefs: I fear that someone will hate me/leave me, so my unconscious mind makes me do things to try and ensure that those fears become true, so I can go "see, I was right". I'm still not sure where these fears come from. I'm not sure where my social awkwardness comes from. I don't know where my desperation to prove myself to others comes from. I have no idea why I constantly make myself miserable.

Anyway, before I try to get myself on a waiting list for CBT in the summer (if the anxiety doesn't clear up with natural sunlight, I'll know this isn't just irrational behaviour brought on by SAD), I'll be doing a bit of a self exploration thing. Since I'm awful at talking to people or writing cogently about my feelings (I bet you've read all this and are thinking "what the fuck is she talking about? I get that she's upset, but what what?"), I'll be doing a handful of critical self portraits. This is not an exercise in vanity: this is an exercise in accepting myself.

HAHA. And you thought I was just a big eccentric but mostly confident and together

Thanks for reading.