Around the end of August and into September there was a small flurry of posts on my blog with a mental health tag. They came into fruition at a time when I was feeling a bit poorly. The darker nights were looming in and I was fretting over whether I'd make it through winter without my depression coming back. With the Verve's lyrics from 'The Drugs don't Work' rolling around my head, I even contemplated a visit to the GP to insist that they prescribe something a bit stronger than my regular dose of anti-depressant.
It then dawned on me that there was a lot that I could do for myself without resorting to chemical solutions. Hence the frenzied writing containing resolutions which amounted to an action plan for keeping well. And now over a month later, it's feels like it's time for a review. Have I fastidiously kept all those promises to eat well, drink less, exercise more and the like? Well no, but I have made some progress which has not been entirely fruitless. Like all good hypochondriacs, I self test myself rigorously (using, in my case, the Hospital Anxiety and Depression Scale in the drawer at work). In my worst state of mind, the scores indicated that I should immediately head for my nearest psychiatric facility and request detention for an indeterminate period. Now, I don't even register as clinically depressed or anxious.
So it seems, a little bit of effort goes a long way. And I have to say that my favourite way of keeping perky is my once monthly treat, made easier to impliment by the introduction of 'Chore-y Thursday'. Knowing that I've got something special to look forward to within a short space of the time, within feeling guilty about unfinished housework, is the most powerful pick me up that I have in my arsenal.