So it's time to introduce you to another very important person in my life.  So far you've met me (poor you), Big Chief White Hair, and Young Master.  The Queen of Cream presides over all of us.

I have a very, very special friend.  She's 4 days younger than me, and a grandmother (I do like to rub that bit in).  Her name is, let me think...  Goddess Yelena.

Yelena moved away to Downunderland 16 years ago.  We talk once, maybe twice, a year; sometimes not that frequently.  We see each other on the Blue Page, which makes life easier given the time difference; but it's not the same as when we worked in the same office, would go home and then spend 2 hours a night chatting on the phone!

Anyway, the thing about Goddess Yelena is that not only is she very wise, beautiful, and the best of friends anyone could ask for; she's my very very best friend.   I won't say she's everything I'm not; we are similar in many ways.  She just completes me in a platonic, sisterly way.  If I have a problem, she supplies the other half of the jigsaw; the other pair of eyes; the other way of thinking.  We have that kind of relationship where we both understand each other, but also have the ability to think at right-angles to each other too.

We can't always be there for each other when we want to be.  We can't always remember to take the phone with us when we're expecting a phone call that arrives when our head is stuck in the washing machine and we can't hear it ring (oh ok, that's just me!)  It does break our collective heart to know that sometimes the other is in need and we are so far away (and yes, I can speak for both of us on that one). 

I just want Goddess Yelena to know how much she is part of my life, and how much I think of her.

Prozac

I was once accused of being a neurotic, middle-aged woman on Prozac.

I wasn't, at the time.  I am now.

I'm quite nervous about taking these tablets.  Until now I've been able to take charge of my own head, eventually.  But the time has come to accept that I need extra help.  The mirena coil has affected me differently this time, and as I told my GP yesterday, I now have two volumes - calm and psychotic. 

My skewed thinking has taken on a whole new dimension.  I realise that that nasty woman is back inside my head, pecking away with her "maybe you're just turning into an embittered old woman.  Maybe you're just not as nice as you want to be".  I'm gagging her, but not very successfully.

I've had a lot of help and support from other anti-depressant users.  I know to expect the woolly head and spaced-out feelings that I've had from painkillers, for example.  I hope I'll adjust quickly, and I'll get to the bit where I feel better.

It's scary, but it's not failure.  It's just the next phase of being me.