I went to the doctor on Friday morning. I wasn't going to but when I found myself sat in the car crying hysterically after my card refused to work in the garage I figured it was probably a good move.

I guess I'd seen it coming for a while. I've felt for a few weeks now like the weight of the world has been on my shoulders. I just didn't want to admit that there was anything wrong.

I guess part of it is my mother. Silly isn't it? Her opinion still counts even though I am 90 miles away and I am 30 years old. Even though she isn't a doctor. My mum doesn't believe that there is such a thing as depression and really doesn't think I should take tablets for it. She bases these opinions on things she has read in specialist publications like "The Sun".

I made a list before going to the doctor. The things I thought were wrong with me. What the signs had been. How I had been gradually getting worse. What had set me off. What I wanted. What I didn't want. He agreed that my self diagnosis of depression coupled with stress and anxiety was correct and that I needed pills.

I started back on them Friday night and since then have spent myself feeling perma-pished. You know that feeling of light headedness where standing up gives you a head rush. I have been reassured through reading that this is a genuine side effect so hopefuly it will calm down soon.

I haven't had any hysterics since Friday morning thankfully and am feeling calmer - I know it's too soon for the drugs to have kicked in so I am guessing any effects are probably due to the support of my girlfriend and friends over the last few days - I really do hope they know how much they mean to me!