100 Sad Days: Day 15; My Blog: Your Comments

I wanted to write about why I am continuing my blog. Yes it is hard and I am writing more blogs than I am publishing. Maybe because I am worried about how they will be accepted or viewed. About the comments I may receive for my complete honesty.

Anyhow the reason I continue is for the fantastic comments I have received along the way. The little messages to tell me that people I know suffer or have suffered with this illness. And that what I am doing is helping people (including those living with sufferers of this mental illness).

I wanted to share with you some of the comments that keep me posting.... (I hope the authors don't mind; no names mentioned:

"I have just read your blog for first time. I think you are so brave and I am truly inspired by your inner strength and honesty at how you deal with the blackness of depression. I struggle most days too. It's like treading water..... You have really helped me today though - thank you xxx"

"I just wanted to let you know how great your blog is. For me it is very brave to share your thoughts on depression but I think it will educate a lot of people, well I hope that it does anyway. I just wanted to share with you that what you are doing is positive for you to be able to write down your feelings and also for others who read the blog".

"I just want to say a very heartfelt thank you for posting your blog. you have a bravery I wish I had. The things you say...I wish I could say as it is what I am feeling most days"....

"I'm loving your blog hun. So just a quick note to say 'well done' and a thank you... today you have been my wings xx"

Thank you everybody. I hope you stay with me x

Comments

London Calling

I am no longer based "in town" and I never thought I'd miss it. Yet every Wednesday when I am London bound I find myself looking forward to what I will be greeted by. It's not the hustle and bustle - the fast moving commuters and slow shuffling tourists. It's not the shops and bargains abound. It's the buildings, the Underground, the knowing smile you may get from a fellow passenger, or the sarcastic comment of a Tube driver. I love London and its diversity. I love that you can walk just a short distance and be greeted by a whole new world. I love that you can randomly bump into an old friend you haven't seen for years. Making our big world smaller every day. I love St Paul's how proud it stands in the heart of the City. The fact it has survived wars and still attracts throngs of people to it everyday. I love the pomp and circumstance of the City and its Idiosyncrasies. I love that the museums are free and that you can meander around beautifu...

100 Sad Days; Day 41: when is a bully not a bully?

I wrote this two years ago and never published it as I didn't feel I should: Is a bully that leaves a mark on someone's body worse than a bully that leaves a mark on someone's conscious - on their soul? I am inclined to think yes - maybe that is why I allow myself to stay in relationships with a bully. Whereas I know the world wouldn't agree. A bully is a bully: be it mental or physical. You can make excuses for their behaviour - something at which I am most practiced - but it doesn't make it right. So why can I not admit that I am being bullied? I think everyone was bullied as a kid - I just chose to befriend the bully and "get him on side" and I think I have been doing the same ever since if I am honest. What makes someone think they are allowed to pick fault with another person? We are all allowed opinions but you are not meant to enforce them on another. You may have insecurities but the way to beat them is not to put ano...

Kicking and Screaming

There isn't much to indicate that I am approaching my late thirties at an alarming rate: well apart from my date of birth; constant tiredness and the fact that a 25 year reunion of leaving Baring Primary School looms large. In general people have the decency to act surprised when I tell them I am soon to be 37. Most people I say, apart from my boss, who recently asked when I had turned forty and when I said I was only 36 retorted that I looked much older. Nice! Anyhow age ain't nuthin' but a number and all that. And I wouldn't say that I am yet middle aged (unless I am planning on dying before the age of 75: I know the Government would like me to and will probably have me working until then but that is by the by).... Today I did a headstand and controlled dismount; I did a handstand; and stated a could do a cartwheel (which for the record I can but didn't fancy my chances of not knocking someone over). I didn't quite manage a shoulder mount but I did do well (...

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