Inside out

Following on from the previous post here's a little poem of sorts:

inside

i cry

tears

tears

that burn

inside

 

Winter blues

I really struggle in winter. I really struggle. I think it's the endless grey days and the days when it never stops raining that get to me the most. I hate them.

This year has been particularly bad. I have not struggled like this since the winter when, eight years ago, I was made redundant. I think this year is particularly bad because last winter was spent in the French department of Aude, with its proliferation of wonderful blue skies, nearly every single day. Now I am sadder than sad on the sad days. Blue skies here in Norwich are a rarity. It's all very soul destroying.

I've suffered with depression most of my life. I mostly manage to cope with it. It's often been with the use of self medication (alcohol) and, in more recent years my art has become my therapy. That's quite a turnaround, because in my younger adult years it was also a source of my depression. Thankfully when I realised what art really was and what its true purpose was I became free from its tyranny. I became free to enjoy it. It liberated me. I also took the decision to stand back from Twitter. It had become quite toxic I felt. And, I have to admit that since I've paid it little attention, I no longer get quite as wound up.

These endless grey days just drag and I need sun. There are days when I really struggle to get out of bed. No amount of creating can help at the moment unfortunately. Perhaps it's more to do with the state of this country? I don't want to be here. That and the fact that we're only halfway through winter!

Futility

Mostly I've coped with lockdown quite well. In fact many days I quite enjoy it. Physical distance, I find, is quite refreshing. But occasionally some days are just shit, and there's not a lot I can do about it, apart from write it off. Life is pointless and I can normally deal with that fact, and mostly I enjoy knowing that it is, but then some days the futility of it all just seems too much to bother with. Today has been one such day. So because I couldn't fully put into words how I feel I created this picture. Enjoy. All being well I should be fine tomorrow.

That metaphor

I'm sure that this type of picture must have been done hundreds of times before but I just couldn't resist this:

Black

I have black moods. I’ve had them since my teens. They are a very strange place to be. I don’t choose when to have them. I don’t know when they will arrive. They don’t seem to be caused by events or other people. They come without warning. They can confuse other people something rotten, and they don’t do me a lot of good either. Sometimes other people think that they have upset me or that I have been upset by someone. Whilst others do upset me from time to time they are never the cause of the blackness. Thankfully, these days, the slough of despond rarely lasts longer than 24 hours, and often it is much shorter. They have also become less frequent the older I get. In my earlier years they might have gone on for several days, often been a lot deeper and manifesting themselves much more often. Now, I know that they will pass; that the chemical imbalance will wash through my system. Sadly, even though I know this, there is bugger all I can do about it apart from retreat into my shell. It’s almost as if there are two of me in this body. Eventually the storm clouds pass and I am all smiles again. I much prefer the smiley me!