It's a few weeks on since we started our homeopathic remedies for curing our family sleep problems, and there's been noticeable progress.

The remedy Aran has been using is one recommended by the local homeopathic chemist, and is one available over the counter specifically for wee people who wake during the night. He still wakes occasionally, but in general his sleep is greatly improved. The daytime tantrums are still hanging around, but less so, which is a huge relief.

Tom's been working on a mixture of remedies to help with his snoring. This is a trickier area to work out, and personally I think he needs something else to help with the problem, but at least for now, it's not keeping me awake so much.

The best remedy for me seemed to be Silicea. When you consider a variety of other symptoms, this one is about as good as it gets for my type. I am sleeping. Heavily. In fact, it'd be fair to say that my sleep habit has swung to the complete opposite of what it was a month ago, and I'm pretty sure that's my body taking what it needs, rather than some obscure side effect.

Now that I am getting sleep, and plenty of it, other aspects have risen to the surface and aren't prepared to be ignored any longer. Such as the black dog. Given how tough this past winter has been, it's not surprising that the depression has risen again. I was able to admit to myself that it's here some months ago, but I haven't yet been able to come here and say it out loud.

I've been contacted by a few people who feel that things of a personal nature shouldn't be posted to this blog, and that all content should be of a business like nature. Whilst I understand that reading about depression can be, well, depressing, trying to pretend this sort of thing doesn't go on is a pretty unhealthy attitude.

Anyone who lives with recurrent clinical depression knows that to ignore this beast and push it underground only makes it worse. To aid recovery, it needs to be aired and the stigma removed. I've not mentioned it here this cycle because I've been fearful of being judged. And that's both absurd and angering. Trying to add a veneer and pretend that everything is sunny and rosey is not only ill advised, but very difficult to do.

And how do I feel? Right now I feel as if I'm in a small locked room, sitting in a dark corner trying to muster the energy to bang on the walls and rattle the windows in the hope that someone may notice that I'm in there, and that they may notice that something is wrong.

There, it's been said, and already the pressure is lifting, as if I've found the light switch in that tiny locked room. It's a bit like being an alcoholic and going to an AA meeting and standing up and saying out loud that you're an alcoholic. Except it needs to be done each and every time a depressive episode hits.

Thankfully I know why I'm unhappy, and to some extent I know what needs to be done. There needs to be some talking and some scheduling and some breaks. Help is needed, and the Silicea is already aiding sleep. It's also a good remedy for for anxiety and unsettled minds, and I suspect it has helped me say what needs to be said out loud.

And thankfully I also know that this is an illness that comes in cycles or episodes, and that I'm currently in one such cycle right now. It isn't the end of the world and it's a bummer that it'll be around for life, but like every other time, I will get through it. All that's needed is some honesty, a reshuffle of priorities and a little understanding.

AuthorWoolly Wormhead
CategoriesHead Zone