powered by prayer and prozac

Hello. I'm not dead, still alive. And the above is true, though when I say powered, I mean just about OK if a bit tired on a good day and hanging in there but exhausted and tearful on a bad day.

To fill you in. I had a fluey illness in late March, which wiped me out pretty completely. I've not really had much energy since then, I've been tired and feeling like I'm made of lead and fairly low. I first went to the doctors a couple of weeks after I first got ill because my cough symptoms were taking a long time to go and I knew something wasn't right. The doctor I saw then listened to my chest, told me I was fine and not to worry. So I went away. But although the cough went away, the tiredness and fuzziness and downness didn't. So I went back again a couple of weeks ago, saw a different doctor, told her how I felt, physically and mentally and she listened. A few weeks and some bloodtests later, we're beginning to make progress. It looks like the illness I had in March was glandular fever which would explain how much it wiped me out then and how tired I am now. I'm on antidepressants, as of a few days ago, so it'll be a while before they kick in. I'm applying to delay my uni essays until August since I haven't been able to do much work. On a bad day, I can barely read. I'm asking for help wherever I can, and getting it. Most of all, I've got lots of lovely friends around who are looking out for me and praying for me and being encouraging.

I'm still very up and down. I had a tiring weekend, with lots of walking and standing around on Saturday for Debs' MA graduation, singing in the worship band at church yesterday. I didn't sleep very well last night and woke up early, as usual. I think today may be a sitting on the settee not doing very much sort of day. It's going to take time to get better. Still, having admitted that life isn't OK right now and asked for help, there's a certain feeling of relief that I'm not on my own and I don't have to bottle stuff up inside and deal with it all by myself anymore.

I don't really know what's going to happen next. There's a PhD studentship I want to apply for, but the deadline is Friday and right now I'm not in the best frame of mind for selling myself as a wonderful research prospect. I can't even think coherently about my MA dissertation, yet alone a potential PhD one.

All I can do is keep on breathing.