Why?

Week 3 of 3... of being signed off work with depression and anxiety.

I think I could count the total number of sick days I've ever had until now on one hand.

A few months ago things started going badly wrong in my head. There was no apparent cause, no horrible trauma, no major stresses. But I started feeling down and isolated. It strained my relationship, which made me feel worse and more alone. I couldn't concentrate at work, which made me feel worse, because I take pride in being good at what I do. Slowly but surely, something inside me has been eating away, taking away everything that makes me, me. Incessant gnawing. I have become an empty shell. Incapable of real emotion. Just black emptiness and the deep, deep feeling of loss and helplessness that accompanies it. I feel like a black hole, sucking in all my girlfriend's emotion, giving nothing back. I see the strain it puts on her and my family.

I don't do crying. Sorry. I didn't do crying. I've done weeping like a baby quite regularly recently.

I'm a social person. Sorry. I was a social person. I isolated myself as much I could recently.

I thrive on exercise and pushing myself. Sorry. That was me... gym visits became less regular. Bikes sat, only being taken out through sheer guilt. Not because I had that aching desire to just be free and ride.

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4 weeks ago, I crumbled. Like a balloon that had slowly been loosing helium, there reached the point where I could no longer stay floating.

My GP prescribed me anti-depressants. Citalopram for the medium-long term. Diazepam for the few weeks it would take for the Citalopram to take affect. Well. The Diazepam kind of worked. I didn't feel as low any more. I just slept instead. For 18 hours a day. Whoop. Blissful, dreamless, anxiety free sleep.

The relief of no work lifted another weight of my shoulders. I wheeled out the slightly neglected road bike. Pulled on lycra that was already slightly less tight fitting than a couple of months before. And I rode. Not far. 40 miles. It exhausted me. But there were sparks. Endorphins were firing around my brain. I actually smiled. A genuine, joyful, toothy grin. Not the watery "everything's ok, except it's not" smiles of recent times.

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A couple of weeks down the line... I've carried on riding. And feel better for it. I feeling stronger in every sense, every day. My relationship is still a mess, but I have discovered something. It is called optimism. It is a brilliant, wonderful thing. It abandons me some days. But they are becoming less regular.

I've been reminded (as if I needed it) how wonderful my friends and family are. And through talking to them, I have built even stronger ties.

I've also bought a new bike (pics to follow). One that was missing from my quiver. A cyclocross bike. Part inspired by reading others blogs, part inspired by watching the 3 Peaks Cyclocross, and local races. Partly because you can never have enough bikes.

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And the future. I'm going to work for a couple of days next week. I'm also going to start going to the gym. I'm currently living between my house in Chapel Allerton, my sister's in Horsforth and my parent's in Halifax. It isn't perfect, but the change is actually helping.

I'm going to ride as often as I can. On the to buy list:

-decent lights

-turbo trainer

I'm also going to try some cyclocross races for myself.

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Bigger challenges await. Mental and physical. I will get through them though. I will break the cycle of depression.