According to my latest depression test sheet (yes, they really do have these, I'm not kidding) I am now a 6. This means that I am officially well. Of course, what it doesn't mean is that I would continue to be well if I stopped taking the drugs, but I can take three months off between appointments. This is both good (money) and bad (no excuse to sneak off to town without the kids), but ultimately should be a good sign. The shrink made me laugh - bloody scientists - spent half the session wondering if there was a way of manipulating my drug regime to find out whether I am bi- or unipolar, for no reason other than that he wanted to know. Never mind the fact that it could send me spiralling into another deep depression, oh no - he wanted the information. Fortunately he changed his mind in the end, and decided it was probably not worth the risk. Thanks a ton.
CBT tomorrow. My homework from last time was to think of all the markers I can for when I am becoming depressed or manic. All those little behavioural cues that, if only I were more aware of them, could make me go "oooooh, hang on a minute". I had fun making that list, especially with the mania such a recent and vivid memory. It made me realise again how a large part of me loves feeling high. Mostly the part below my waist.
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