Before I start, can I just warn you I've lost my blogging mojo. It's gone completely AWOL and shows no sign of reappearing in the near future. So, if this post is a disjointed mass of ramblings, I apologise and if you can send some coherent writing vibes to me, I'd really appreciate it.

As mentioned in my previous post here, I'm not right in myself at the moment. I'm not even sure if I can put into words what that sentence actually means but if I'm honest, at the time of writing that post, I was at a real low. I felt like I'd suddenly dropped into some kind of black hole that had sucked all the joy and life out of me, and it scared me.

I phoned my doctors and booked an appointment to talk about my worries. My usual doctor wasn't available so I reluctantly accepted an appointment with one I'd never met before as I knew if I didn't, I'd back out and end up keeping everything bottled up tight within me.

You hear stories about draconian doctors with little compassion and understanding for mental health issues and I was concerned about what I'd let myself for in. Fortunately, the doctor I saw was calm and sympathetic and importantly, he didn't flinch when I produced the 2 pages of "symptoms", some physical and others emotional/mental, I'd scribbled down whilst sat in the waiting room.

The doctor listened and then agreed in a very non judgmental way that there were issues we needed to look into. The fact he said "we" and not "he" made me feel positive. I was being included and would have some form of control over whatever plan of action was constructed.

Step 1 : a blood test to find out if my feelings were as a result of low iron levels/an underactive thyroid/diabetes/liver function/kidney function. There's probably more but I can't remember.

Step 2 : treatment for anything flagged up by the test or, if nothing, consider different PND treatments.

That brings us up to last Tuesday when I had the joy of a fasting blood test. If you haven't had one of these before, it differs from a normal blood test in that you're not allowed to eat or drink in the 12 hours before it. For me, this was hard, as lately I seem to have a voracious appetite and I NEVER go that long without food.

I had 4 vials of blood taken from my left arm and have a lovely purple bruise as proof of my bravery. I considered taking a photo of it but it's Friday now so it looks much less impressive than it did!

The results should be in next week and until they are, I'm trying to manage myself the best I can while ignoring the little voice in my head that's telling me I'm a failure and a bad mother.

There's really not much more I can say.