Hello blog

…actually, when I say hello blog, I mean hello shadowy but friendly people who live in the internet and show up as numbers on my stats screen and as nice comments at the bottom of my posts…

What an odd way to start.

Apologies for the gap in posts.  I am continuing to put one foot in front of the other, metaphorically speaking, but not a great deal more than that.  I am ok, though.  I seem to have rather lost my facility with words, though, don’t I?  Which is odd, they were positively singing out of me last week, but seem to have slowed to a trickle.  Anyway, enough rambling: how have I been?

Well, I’ve been going through stages.  I’ve had an angry stage, where I wanted to spit blood at everyone and everything, but for the most part managed not to.  I got fairly close, on a couple of occasions, to smearing some of my incoherent rage over this blog, but managed to persuade myself to follow the ‘wait 24 hours before posting anything you might regret’ rule, and thus realised that I was incoherently angry in general, rather than about anything in particular.

I have also managed to avoid doing any mad person in the street shouting, which is always a plus, although I have done some mad person muttering evilly under my breath instead.  An especially low point came when I managed to heave my putrefying carcass out of the flat for a stroll in the park.  I was hoping for a quiet, relaxing, maybe even inspiring time communing with trees and grass and suchlike, but instead found the place littered with humans.  By and large I like people, but I’m afraid there are times when my patience for my species-mates runs a little thin.

One irritation was a lady out for a ‘power walk’ with her friend, and was one of those people who is simply incapable of silence, or even of a quietness, and thus spoke to her friend in a voice so loud it made the hypothetical life forms on Europa look up from their  volcanic vents and ask her to keep the bloody noise down.  She wasn’t even talking about anything important, or for that matter anything that made sense, but doing it so loudly that I and everyone else in earshot was forced to listen.

The park was also infested with joggers, who are always annoying.  I always want to tell joggers to their face: ‘You’re still going to die, you know.  No matter how many circuits a day you do, the moment is still going to come when your heart stops beating.  And in those final heart-stopped moments, you’re going to look back over your entire life, and you’re going to think – I wish I’d spent less time running, and more time wrapping my face around a cream cake…

Anyway, I made it through the angry stage (well, sort of…), and moved on to the delights of the listless stage, where I was irritable, and out of sorts, and possessed of energy, but not of the willpower to do anything with it, and so just sat in front of the TV endlessly circling though the same channels and wanting to scream when there was nothing even halfway watchable on the fucking thing.

And then the listless stage passed, and has left me washed up again on the shores of blank, bleak depression.  Today (tonight), I am feeling supremely lacking in energy – picture an arthritic tortoise with ME, and you have a fair impression.

I will admit, this is being a bad go with the depression.  Both in terms of depth and duration.  Every day I allow myself a few minutes to sit quietly not doing anything, just to see what happens.  Sometimes I have a panic attack, and I know I’m anxious.  Other times I start to have random thoughts about this and that, and I know that I’m on the road back to a more normal state of mind.  But then there are the times when I just sit, a stolid, unmoving, unthinking lump of flesh, and the only thing that stares back at me is my own sense of the utter futility of my existence, and I know I’m depressed.  This is the state I find myself in all the time at the moment, and it is getting to be a severe drag.

I can feel myself being drawn to high-up places – not to jump off them, just to be above/ beyond myself.  It’s as though depression is a pit, and I am compelled to climb, physically, to try and escape.  I live in a hilly city, and so I find myself clambering up tarmac paths as though they were Everest, forcing my breathless, aching body to the top, so I can look out over rooftops to the free hills beyond, and look for a sense of release, of hope, of achievement – but it never comes.

Today (yesterday) I climbed to the top of such a hill, and sat on a bench at the top, and looked down over a wide expanse of fresh-cut grass.  I saw silver birches, and horse chestnuts, and copper beeches, and lots of other trees I don’t know the name of, all of them rustling their leaves in the evening breeze.  I saw magpies, and wood pigeons, and ducks, and some members of the crow family – probably jackdaws – and the inevitable, inescapable inland seagulls.  I watched them fly, and land, and walk, and I waited for my country-boy instincts to kick in, for the part of me that thinks my world should be full of earth and streams instead of pavements and drains to take over and give me a sense of homecoming, a feeling of peace.

I waited until it was nearly dark, but the feeling never came.  Nothing is working, this time, nothing.  Nothing is working.

This entry was posted in About me, Anger issues, Depression. Bookmark the permalink.

6 Responses to Hello blog

  1. bluesilk says:

    You can identify more trees than I can. I’m not sure I’ve ever identified a tree correctly.

    Yeah, sometimes nothing does work, sometimes nothing I try anyway.

    Hope you get some relief soon and, if tv is your thing when depressed, as it is mine, I hope you have a decent amount of channels to flick through.

  2. beetrootsoup says:

    Well, give yourself 10 out of 10 for effort anyways! If it didn’t work this time, another time it will. It saddens me to hear the pain you are in and I wish to God you could get some more effective help. At least you have your memory of being uplifted by nature. That capacity is still alive deep within you, even though temporarily obscured, I’m convinced. Keep up the good fight A. We are rooting for you. Love, Zoe

  3. cellar_door says:

    Hello A :o)

    I’m sorry everything is so shit for you right now. I very much hope it improves soon.

    “I have done some mad person muttering evilly under my breath”

    As do I, regularly. I don’t even think that counts as being mad to be honest. At least, I hope not…

    Take care x

  4. Lucy McGough says:


    Hang on.

    (By the way, I agree with you about joggers.)

  5. Mandy says:

    Hello to you A

    I quite like the idea of being a shadowy person (loitering around on the peripheries) much more than the gym class hero type, jumping around with all the other gym class heros. For the most part I hated PE at school..except trampoling and swimming.

    What’s to say about depression that hasn’t already been said?…I mean that as someone coming along here to try and help rather than hinder how things are. It is what it is..and a person can try things to ease the onslaught (often succeeding in getting the backside off the bed/sofa/floor and into action). Sometimes all it does is pass time. In a different place and that different place can add some colour..something missing when stuck within four walls.

    What it can do is stop a person feeling they have completely given in to the depression. That fighing spirit is there and ‘having a go’ but I don’t wish to presume.

    Personally, there are times when I feel all I have is fighting spirit and I am grateful that I have that.

    Am hoping that if you venture out some more that you will get to feel more of what you want to feel and if you don’t manage to get out…that it isn’t constant entrapment with the depression.

    And when I commented ‘what is to be said about depression etc’. I meant that from perspective of someone who has been there and goes there and has had the many pep talks that haven’t actually equated to me ‘feeling better’. There is comfort in people caring and showing that but what is important, for me, is reading what people who are experiencing write about it because, for me, the sense of lonliness isn’t so severe.

    Take care best as


  6. Hi Aethelread.

    I just wanted to say I’m trying to read, but I’m not up to processing everything at the moment. I’m sorry to hear that you’re struggling with the depression again this time. It’s no fun is it? I really hope it lifts for you soon.

    So yeah, just commenting to say I’m still here and still thinking of you. xx

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