So we are at end of another Monday.
A Monday where I got those nerves in my stomach.
You know those nerves which, if your like me, determine if you have a good day or not.
A Monday where I had a moment in Liverpool Street station and had to stop amongst the mayhem of commuters and wonder what I was doing there.
I have not taken my anti-depressants for 8 weeks. We've been back from Canada for 8 weeks and when we got back, it seemed as good a time as any to stop taking them as I was finally feeling like I could cope. I was In a good place.
Today, my moment in the station made me realise how far I had come in 2 months.
It made me realise that its OK to get a little overwhelmed and have some anxiety to prove that I can get over it.
It felt like it I couldn't move. I was stuck still and my breath escaping me. Everyone was moving around but it was slowed down. I was in a still of a movie with the background blurring and becoming hazy. Me, I was suddenly in clear cut focus. I wish I knew what triggered it. Sleep came easy to me the night before; I got to see my Husband in the morning; I wasn't stressed by travelling. It just happened.
It was scary, but I took a deep breath and looked around, and walked on.
I class this as a triumph. I could've quite easily broken down and walked away and curled up at home.
But, I didn't.
I might not be out of the woods yet, but at least I can see a clearing.