Silence Broken

This evening I went to a preview screening of the film of one of my favourite books 'Hector and the Search for Happiness' by Francois Lelord which has seen me reach for my laptop and tickle it back into action with a few words and thoughts.

It is no coincidence that I haven't written here for over two years.  The past 24 months have been dark and I have been unhappy.  Actually, sod it, I've been very unhappy.  I'd go so far as to say I've been depressed - and have got the prescriptions to prove it.   I've had dark days weeks months when each time the sun insists on rising yet another day, it feels like a forceful punch in the face.  Which leaves one bruised and in pain.  Twice I've considered not meeting the dawn again and it's fearful blow.  Twice, thankfully, I've realised 'who the f*ck do I think I am?' and 'how dare you put your loved ones through that sh*t" and so I've rumbled on.  With the black clouds, the black dogs the black, bla, blah - until it becomes so utterly boring that I can't face it anymore.  How funny is that?!  I got bored of being depressed!

The endless fractures and hospital appointments haven't helped, nor the weight gain due to broken bones but something (other than a bone) clicked and I realised I had a choice.  I could stop caring, stop fighting and give in to the waves of unhappiness and loneliness. I could stop.  Full stop.

Or I could touch the rawness of being fucked up and depressed and realise that, actually, I've been here before when it was twenty times worse and I crawled back, inch by aching inch.  I am a fighter.  I may struggle with depression.  I may struggle with a history of disordered eating and all kinds of other stuff but, let's face it, who doesn't have a cloak of peculiarities around their shoulders?  And so, here I am.  I'm back and whilst everyday may not be a carpet of rose petals (which would make a frightful mess, just saying), I'm alive.  I'm feeling.  I'm here.