Black Dog

1 minute read time.

(undated)

Sometimes with a blog there’s nothing to write about…. sometimes too much. Other times you tend to just feel that yet another post on a similar theme is going one step too far.

But hey… who is this blog for… not you.

Me.

Between this blog, my small terrier and his walking habits, my counsellor, some medication and the natural passing of time I’ve come out the other side of an overlong session with another larger blacker dog.

I wouldn’t say I’m totally on top of the world at the moment…. but I’m not seeing the world through the black dogs eyes. That makes such a difference.

I’m still taking anti-depressants (which I’m certainly not daft enough to wean off as winter settles in). I’m still seeing a counsellor becuase each session which I think will be my last turns out not to be.

And I’m still living in a situation, the accumulative stress of which, has probably had a hand in my present physical problems.

But I’m fine.

Apart from in the dark corners of the night, when the pain hits I think  I could possible be dying.

Do thoughts get any more depressing than that?

And yet……

it doesn’t feel like a depressive thought.

Becuase the black dog isn’t here.

I suspect he may be round the corner…. but at least this time I’m aware of him and have support and the knowledge of my own resiliance and abilty to get through…well…. pretty much anything.

NB. world mental health day was 5 days ago… but i’ve been busy

Anonymous