[To listen to an audio version of this blog please click here: http://bit.ly/2pEfQVA]

I was wondering what to write this morning. Not so much grasping into thin air, but choosing from the myriad of confused ideas in my mind, wondering which one to take in hand, untangle, and wrestle with my trusty keyboard into some kind of coherent shape.

But reading the Librarian's excellent post today has decided me: today needs to be about pride.

Yesterday, the Librarian recommended being compassionate with ourselves, recognising that we have done our best and saying "well done" to ourselves at the end of each day.

Well, until recently, I could never do that. Even when flying high; impatient with everyone around me because they were just so stupid, so slow, so unimaginative; I could never mark that "pride" card at more than a measly 1. As for the bad times, pride was the first to drop to zero, and the very last to come up again.

I would berate myself for not having done more, achieved better, obtained higher. I would look at my (perceived) potential and castigate myself for not having fulfilled even half of it.

I was never, but never, proud of myself.

What changed? The medication: simply the medication. Oh, what a difference the right drug makes!

It took a while for me to notice it, because I was consistently scoring a "good for me" number. But eventually, it dawned that there were never any 3s. So, if there were no 3s, what else had changed to bring the score up?

Well, there was nothing on jittery, irritable or hostile – that was one thing. But the most significant change was the pride score.

It seems, every morning, I can look back on the previous day and find at least one thing I am proud of. Today I look back and I am proud of myself for saying no to someone. Saying no was incredibly difficult for a people pleaser like me, but absolutely the right thing to do in those circumstances.

I don't think I am doing anything differently, but I am viewing it differently. And it's most unexpected.

The drive and ambition has not disappeared; I am not inhabiting some mental island of lotus-eaters, but I am much more relaxed about almost everything.

It's much nicer for the family. Rather than having a wife and mother who is upset because the cake is slightly burned on one side (because it's got to be perfect), I'm pleased I managed to bake a cake at all. Rather than having to cope with someone who is stressed at not having finished her "to do" list, they have a family member who is happy at having achieved at least something with her day. I deep-cleaned the bathroom on Sunday; I was dead chuffed with myself for that!

So, if you find you're beating yourself up over something, just take a moment to consider – is it you, or is it the depression talking?

That black dog is a miserable cur. I bet he's only proud of having dragged you down.

Mary

A Moodscope member.