Two weeks ago I caved and listened to everyone telling me to go to the doctors. I was scared. Tyler came with me, and I'm so glad he did. Knowing he would be there waiting for me when I came out was so reassuring.
After speaking and crying with the Dr he diagnosed me as being mildly depressed, and in his words, having a severe anxiety disorder. He prescribed some meds, and I've been taking them. Things haven't got any better.
I was doing well with the happy front at this point, as the picture on this post shows. I took it the day I got the meds.
I'm worse now. I don't know if that's to do with the fact I've been ill and not done anything school work wise for nearly two weeks, or the fact that we have a visit with Dad this weekend.
I have no appetite. I wanted to lose weight, but I want to do it healthily. I don't want to become a stick through not eating. I'm finally back into a size 10 Jean, but I want to be an 8. I just don't want to do it this way. I find myself forcing me to eat at times. Even Mum has noticed, if I don't clear my plate at dinner (not done for weeks), she notices and gives me a look of disapproval.
Today has been the worst day for a while. I'm crying while writing, and have been all morning. I'm scared I'm on the verge of a mental breakdown.
I have another Dr's appointment this afternoon, I'm glad about that. Tyler is coming with me again, but instead of waiting outside I'm going to ask him to come in. I think the Dr needs to hear it from someone else how I've been. Tyler thinks I've gotten worse lately too.
Hugs from my little princess are what's keeping me going at the moment. I know I have to stay strong for her. Me being like this is affecting her, and that's not fair. She needs a mummy who is able to look after her.
I'm so scared right now.
Young Mumma xx