Posts Tagged ‘depression’

Stitched On Smiles

Monday, March 29th, 2010

Pull your socks up and put a smile on your face and be grateful for everything you’ve got, because what will people think when you’re walking around looking miserable.

This time, I don’t really care what people think and I can’t quite muster up the enthusiasm to pull up my socks. They will only slide back down again. I am tired of playing games. I appreciate that I might not be great company; but if you give me time to sort my head out, then I’ll probably get there in the end –

It’s when you trample over my feelings or sweep them under the carpet that we’re heading for disaster.

Five Good Things

Tuesday, November 24th, 2009

I am not great at positive affirmations and platitudes. I’ll do them – spontaneously and under a different name – but I find forced sentimentality a little nauseating…

Which is why my next strategy may come as a bit of a surprise!

‘Five Good Things’ is my version of the ‘things that I am grateful for today’ concept. I have used it at various stages in my illness, my recovery, and in those horrible periods when life seemed pretty bleak and it was hard to see the point.

Interestingly – and unintentionally – it also proved a great way of falling asleep at night; particularly during times when my head refused to be quiet or the emptiness of going to bed with a mind full of miserable thoughts was just too much to bear.

Now, it’s good for days when I have that nagging sense of dissatisfaction, or when I get caught up in the hype and forget that it’s the little things that really make the difference –

Because ‘Five Good Things’ is really simple and all about recognising the brief moments of specialness – so that they become a lot bigger.


Saturday, August 1st, 2009

Depression. It’s a loosely used term. It’s bandied around a bit, used to add a touch of drama. I’m guilty of the charge. I’d forgotten that drama feels far too draining when you’re depressed. I’ve become blasé with my terminology: you don’t take depression lightly.

It’s bitterly cruel.

It’s totally indiscriminate.

It’s an emotional and physical and mental hijacking.

“There’s a certain Slant of light,
Winter Afternoons —
That oppresses, like the Heft
Of Cathedral Tunes —

Heavenly Hurt, it gives us —
We can find no scar,
But internal difference,
Where the Meanings, are —


The Dark Side

Monday, June 15th, 2009

My head is tuned in to minor thirds. It resonates with clashing chords. It connects, on some fundamental and physical level, with melancholy despair, with violent lyrics.

There’s a certain type of song that sounds like my eating disorder feels; that mirrors the despair and the desperation of my anorexia; taps into the violence and anger of my bulimia; and provokes an almost physical reaction – a stunned recognition – followed by an overpowering sense of sadness and pain.

I had an epiphany on the way to work one morning. Somewhere between St Albans and Hatfield, when Amy Winehouse had reduced me to tears, I realised what my response was all about.