Lost is often a good thing. Thought may not be so good.
Breaking up my routine seems to add enormously to my well-being. While I might not persuade my wife to let me go trekking in the Empty Quarter, even mild change can be very beneficial.
For the miserable, moody and mercurial, one’s outlook can swivel on a sixpence. Or dime, if you prefer. Not so … More
The anger I felt after a set-to a week ago was a futile exercise in self harm.
The state of depression is easy enough to describe but it is doubtful whether mere words manage to convey the depth of the misery to one who has never suffered from it.
We would put an animal down, surely we can offer the same courtesy to a human?
For the ever mercurial Alfred the sun did not rise yesterday. After a splendid microdosed Sunday, he woke with a bump on Monday morning.
Perhaps it is best to acknowledge the endless pawing of the black dog at your door. For some, it is a rare day that the gentle scuffling can not be heard.
We can expect limited success in our endeavours to change but some change is better than none. We may be able to tip the balance in our favour.
Bad hair day doesn’t begin to describe the awfulness of a day of real negativity. There are days when the sun just seems to go out.