Touching Rock Bottom…

I know, I know – I said in my last post that I was fine. That has been very much Not So!  The truth is that I got a taste of the floor – I touched rock bottom, and it has not been pretty.

I am not good at writing the ‘bad stuff’. I am more the fixer type, who will wade through the unthinkable, sometimes hot fire, other times torrents of floods, more often than not I win, and will be quick to tell, ‘hello, I am here, and this is what I did…” , which ,unfortunately, does not give a very balanced view of life. It is unfair to only tell people the victories, yet hide the details of the battle. And battles are tough, sometimes bloody.

Thankfully, our Almighty has given us a fighting spirit. Very few people stand and wait for the lion to make a meal out of them. I believe we are created with inbuilt facilities to fight inorder to survive.

I have been lucky in my life. I haven’t had to fight very serious battles. Or, and this is most probably ‘it’, my way of dealing with difficulties is strange. There are times I have gone through situations, and only once I had ‘crossed over’ did I realize the magnitude of what I just went through. That is why I sometimes feel as though I live my life as ‘one walking backwards’. I seem to only understand the reality — and the gravity of it, after looking at past events

But not in the last couple of months.

I  knew I wasn’t quite well, but couldn’t put my finger on it. I am guilty of ever self-diagnosing myself. I wish I had the grades and brains to study medicine. (though this was nowhere in my area of interest…).  I usually see the doctor at the very last instance, – usually regurgitating a torrent of medical terminology. I didn’t see a doctor the whole time we lived in Switzerland. Instead, I would have a huge stock of vitamins, multiminerals, and I experiment with all sorts of traditional foods, beliving that somehow, such foods hold a key to some overlooked wellbeing. Stocked in my fridge is cooked Njahi, pumpkin, ndengu, githeri, etc. And for cooking I use all manner of vegetables and herbs, peppers, garlic, ginger, lemon etc.

When we moved to Joberg, I had it in mind to see a doctor. When it becomes inevitable that I go see a doctor, I will usually have my notebook and pen ready, and will have made a list of every single sympton that I have sufffered. 

So when finally an opportunity presented itself,  I walked to a doctor that had been recommended to me. Her first words were, ” You are anaemic!” I told her an emphatic “No”. She did her checkup and recommended a battery of lab tests. I was happy because I was sure I would get to the bottom of the matter, actually my reason for seeing her in the first place was to get all those tests done.

Two days later, came her call. All my tests turned out normal, no anaemia, no diabetes, no hormonal issues, no hypertension, no thyroid whatever, no nothing. I was happy to hear that I am healthy, but what she said next was dumpfounding – ” I believe you are severely depressed. Please come around and pick your prescription”

Depressed. What kind of a diagnosis is that?

For the next two days, I went around the house talking to myself. I even told my kids that the doctor said I am suffering from extreme sadness. Denzel was away on business, and I could not master the courage to tell him that on phone. In short I went on denial mode. I made another appointment, this time with a nutritionist. Reason being, I wanted a second opinion, and also the fact that I wanted to get my diet straightened, and I secretly wanted to pick up my prescription, as the two doctors are in the same vicinity.

Somehow, I began by telling her what the other doctor had said. She suggested  more tests, including  HIV at my suggestion, – not wanting to leave anything to chance. Again, all clear. Well, we discussed an eating plan – (sounds extravagant when there is famine in Kenya), which suggested that I need to eat more food!

Anyway, to cut the long story shorter, I contacted my doctor friend in Kenya and confided. If I was indeed depressed, I am very surprised. What happened next is what I call depression. I went into depression – a dark dark world, that saps you of all ‘joie de vivre’, dries up all creativity, and blocks all attempts at being proactive – in short I kissed rock bottom. After discussions with my doctor friend and another beloved whom will only be known as H, it was decided that I don’t take the antidepressants.

The thick darkness is slowly easing off, and yesterday  I looked at Denzel and felt love for him- even that had vanished! Armed with my ‘eating plan’ , vitamins, a treadmill and weights to work out, I am determined to win this battle.